4: Sylar's Legacy
by nurzubesuch
Summary: It is as if Santa Barbara would be a magnet for crazy serial killers. Or do the serial killers attract each other? Do serial killers have a subsequent regulation? It seems, Sylar gained one when he died … Sequel to "Identity", "Fallen Heroes" and "Solve the Case, Save the World"
1. Nobody

**Hello and welcome back, even if I greet only one person with that (most of my reviewers seem to have abandoned me, but maybe they are just too lazy to write the reviews I was hoping for; thinking that helps me to believe that it wasn´t the story that scared them away). Anyway. To all of you who are back with me (if silent or not) here we are again, starting the ... *one, two, three* … forth story. Wow. Not bad. How did this happen? I have no idea. But here we are and I hope you´ll enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the stories before that.**

**Last but not least the disclaimer of course: I own nothing of this.**

**And now enjoy.**

* * *

**Nobody**

Stanley stumbled backwards after the hard push he´d received from the mad man before him. His right foot got caught behind his left one. Stanley fell and landed on his butt.

„Please. I didn´t mean to …"

„Shut up, stupid." the other man talked over him and grabbed his collar to lift him up. When Stanley was at his eye level again, he took his throat in his hand and pressed him against the wall. „I´m disappointed in you, Stan." he said. „I came all the way here from Boulder because you called me."

„I know, I …"

„Shut up already. I came here because I believed that you knew what you were talking about. I was actually even glad when you called me, because I actually believed that the man you promised me that he was here, would actually be here when I arrived. But what happened instead? I come here … and he is not here. Why is he not here, Stan?"

„I dunno." Stan whined, desperately trying to breath under the other man´s grip. „I was busy with … things."

„Things."

„But he was here." Stan hurried to go on. „I´m sure ´bout that. I heard them talk about him and there is no way that they meant someone else. He was here."

„Was. But the question I hope you can answer me is: Where is he now?"

„I dunno. But I can find out. My pal in the registration office will find him for me. For you, I mean."

„What´s his name?"

„What?"

„Your pal in the registration office. What´s his name?"

„Billy Donovan." Stan answered and then the other one smiled at him in a strange way.

Stan believed he´d never been so scared his entire life. And in this moment he wished he´d never called this guy to tell him his information. Why the hell had he thought he would gain anything from that? No one had ever gained anything from working for that guy. Okay maybe the one or the other had, but only if they´d gotten away before the cops had gotten too close. If this guy hadn´t killed them himself that was, something that happened from time to time too.

It was a mystery to Stan why anyone was still brave enough to work with him. But the fact that this guy had never been caught and that he didn´t seem to care about the police and their guns or anything, had probably something to do with it. A guy that not even the FBI could catch had to have a secret and who wouldn´t want to have a share of that if he could? But right now Stanley would be happy to go without it.

„I´ll call Billy the first thing in the morning." Stan said, trying not to let his voice sound too pleading.

Of course he failed pathetically. The other man just shook his head. Stanley realized for the first time that he didn´t know his name. Strange that he had needed that long to realize that. Okay it wasn´t that he didn´t know how to call him. He had even several names that he could call him. But he was pretty sure that none of them was his real given name. All the sudden Stanley wondered if he even had a given name.

He´d known this man for three years and had worked for him since then, always giving information and making connections for him if requested. That had been the reason why he´d done this insanely stupid thing to call him when he´d overheard that talk between those two detectives at the station. He´d known that this guy – his Boss – was interested in the guy they were talking about and he´d considered it his duty to report what he´d heard. But now … Damn how could he work for this guy for three years and never noticed that he didn´t know his name? And why the hell was that so important right now?

„I could call him right now." Stan blurred out when he realized that his Boss was not pleased with his first suggestion. „I wake him up. Bill will go to work right away."

„Shut your stupid mouth." the other man said. „I´ll go to see him myself."

„But … why not letting me call him? I mean …"

„You know, Stanley. I kinda grew to appreciate you over the years. You never failed me so far, like most other people do. I don´t appreciate it when someone is wasting my time with false information."

„Please. I didn´t lie. He was here. I know that."

„You know that." the other one repeated. „Is that so?" he leaned in a little closer. „Can you look me in the eye and swear that? Scouts honor? Can you?"

Stanley looked into this mad man´s eyes and couldn´t say anything. The man whose name he didn´t know, smiled.

„I didn´t think so." he said.

...

Detective Carlton Lassiter scowled when he walked into the crime scene. He hated it when the victim was someone he knew. It had the tendency to make his work so much more complicated, especially when the person was one that he´d known from the station and not from his private life. But to be honest, sometimes he didn´t know which version was worrying him more. If it was someone he knew privately, there was always the possibility, that their death was a warning for him of some sorts.

If it was someone he knew from work … well, practically the same. But at least this time, it was only the caretaker. He knew him because he knew everybody who worked for the S.B.P.D. the one way or the other. But he was not in a special way connected to that man. So there was room for hope that his death was coincidence.

Lassiter took his notepad and took on a professional posture.

„All right." he said, reading off the pad. „Body, male, severally mutilated probably by a club or something similar."

„I wouldn´t be so sure about that, detective." a thin voice replied even before Lassiter had a chance to ask O´Hara for more information. The two of them swirled around to look at the person this voice belonged to.

„Lightly." Lassiter cried when he saw him. „What the hell are you doing here?"

Mary Lightly, FBI profiler extraordinaire, approached them slowly and almost sneaking, his shoulders crouched and his hands in his pockets.

„Sorry that I walked into your crime scene before you got here, detective." he said. „But I needed to know if it was him."

„Who?"

Mary looked at the dead man before them for a moment. „He has many names." he told them. „Probably because he never claimed one for himself. The papers called him Superman. Others just call him Boss or The Ghost because he comes and goes like one. In some scenes they called him steelchest."

Juliet shook her head. „I´m sorry." she said a little lost. „Are you talking about our caretaker?"

„I´m talking about the man who killed your caretaker, detective." Mary explained.

„So you want to say you know who did this?" Lassiter asked, pointing at the dead man. But before he could get an answer from Lightly, he noticed two figures at the crime scene tape, that attempted to enter the place. „Spencer, stay right there." he called at once. If there should be any problems regarding jurisdiction about this case, he wanted them to be solved before the fake psychic started to touch, sniff or even lick everything at the crime scene.

Shawn and Gus halted in surprise at the call. But then they´d spotted the profiler.

„Mary?" Shawn cried startled. „I … sensed that you were here." he claimed the next second, his hand hovering at the level of his temple.

Lassiter ignored him and faced the profiler again. „So what is this, Lightly?" he demanded to know. „Is this an FBI case or what?"

Mary Lightly threw another sad look at the dead caretaker and sighed. „I believe it is." he said.

...

It was barely an hour later, when Shawn and Gus were sitting on the edge of Lassiter´s desk at the Santa Barbara Police Department. They were not amused as they would be under any other circumstances that provided them with the opportunity to sit on the head detective´s desk like that, knowing that he would chase them off as soon as he saw them there. No, this time they felt like running off on their own. All they could see in the moment was the open bullpen and the projector that suddenly seemed to fill the room all on its own. People were gathering around it one by one. They were preparing for the show.

„I don´t like this, Shawn." Gus told his best friend without looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the bullpen. „I have a weird kind of déjà vu. I tell you. That´s some bad Juju."

„Tell me about it, dude." Shawn agreed, his eyes never leaving the bullpen just like Gus. „This damn projector." he murmured and bit his knuckle.

„Do you remember?" Gus asked. „That´s exactly how it started. First we found Mina and then Mary came in to tell us …"

Shawn nodded. „… about a serial killer that could change his form." he finished the sentence.

„Right."

„Man."

They both sighed heavily. The whole time none of them had taken his eyes off the doomsaying projector.

„I´ve got goosebumps, Shawn." Gus now revealed. „I can´t do this."

„No." Shawn agreed.

„Let´s get out of here." Gus suggested urgently.

„Yes." Shawn agreed again and they were already getting up to leave before it was to late to turn back. Shawn had just finished his turn, when he faced a whiteness that was framed by a dark shoulder holster. Shawn almost ran into it but stopped just an inch before his nose collided with this only too well known chest.

„Where are you guys going?" Lassiter demanded to know. „We´re going to start the briefing."

„We know." Shawn claimed looking up into the stern face. „We just … thought there was enough time for a snack from the vending machine."

„There´s not." Lassiter replied. „Take your place and shut your mouths."

The two consultants exchanged a helpless glance and obeyed. There was nothing they could do and they knew it. As it seemed they were damned to stand by and listen to the doomsayer and his evil projector.

Chief Vick came out of her office, the little doomsayer right at her heels. She and Mary took their positions on each side of the projector. Just like the day when they all had learned about Sylar, Shawn thought again and fought against the sick feeling in his stomach. Gus was right. That really was some bad Juju. Really bad Juju.

„All right, everybody listen up." chief Vick cried. „It seems our latest case is an ongoing investigation of the FBI, so we will be fully cooperating with Mary Lightly once again. He will give us all a short briefing on the situation. Mr. Lightly."

„Thank you, chief." Mary said and switched on the projector.

Dammit, Shawn thought to himself. As if they recycled this text every time when a situation like that came around. Maybe they did.

„The man, we´re seeking is a notorious criminal." Mary started his speech. „He did everything from stealing to murder. His identity is unknown, he could never be identified."

„Are you kidding?" Lassiter asked.

„No, detective." Mary replied. „Since we were never able to arrest him, there was no way of trying to identify him. No DNA samples, no matches on photos or fingerprints. He´s not registered anywhere, so that either means he´s not born in America or he was just never registered."

„Or arrested."

„Right."

On the wall there was the picture of the man they were talking about, obviously shot by a surveillance camera. It showed a man standing before a bank. He was in his mid thirties or maybe around forty. It was hard to tell. His face was only seen halfway and he had long dark hair hanging in his forehead. He was wearing a long coat and he was obviously holding a loaded gun.

„Is that a Kalashnikov he´s holding?" Lassiter asked.

„Indeed it is." Mary affirmed. „We learned over the years that he has a thing for big guns. Especially shotguns and MPs and such weapons. The more destruction one shot can cause the better he likes them. On one occasion he got his hands on a Bazuka and blew up half a building with it."

„Why did he do that?" Juliet asked shocked.

„No one knows for sure. Nobody doesn´t necessarily need a reason to do certain things. Sometimes he just does it, because he feels like it."

„Nobody?" Lassiter repeated.

„That´s how we call him. He has no name and no known identity. He´s like someone that technically cannot exist."

„Oh, he exists." the detective replied. „If this Nobody is the man who killed our caretaker …"

„I´m pretty positive that it was him." Mary stated convinced.

„Then you can ask him who he is and where he came from as soon as we have him." Lassiter finished his sentence.

„I have to warn you about this man, detective." Mary went on. „He´s extremely dangerous and there is a reason why he was never arrested so far. It is not that it hasn´t been tried. There were actually quiet a few encounters local police had had with this man. They all ended with dead police men and women and Nobody who just walked away freely."

„How?" Juliet asked, her eyes big and almost scared off the answer.

„He seems to be immune to any kind of gunfire, our men could come up with." Mary told them. „Every time he resisted the arrest and they opened fire on him, he was just not responding to the bullets."

„What do you want to say with that?" Lassiter demanded to know. „Is he wearing a vest?"

„If that would be so, the colleagues would have aimed for the arms and legs, but even if they did that, it didn´t show any result."

Everybody in the room exchanged glances with each other after that. It was not necessary for anyone to say something to make clear that they were all thinking the same.

„Mr. Lightly." chief Vick spoke up at last, trying to sound polite. „Considering what you told us last time when you came here to hunt a serial killer … I feel inclined to stop you, before this briefing takes on a … how do I say that? A ridiculous colour."

„I didn´t try to indicate anything, chief." Mary assured her. „But I find it quiet extraordinary that this man was never arrested and as it seems never even wounded in any of these tries. He acts totally fearless when it comes to forces that move against him."

„Maybe he´s just really good in avoiding to be shot." Shawn guessed.

„Or he just doesn´r care if he dies." Gus supported him. „Some criminals are like that."

„There is a surveillance video about one of these attempts to arrest him." Mary replied. „I brought it with me. May I?"

„Go ahead." chief Vick made an inviting gesture and Mary switched from the picture to the video.

From the angle of the video it was pretty clear that it had been shot from a camera that was installed on the roof of a building. There were police men that surround a bank that was obviously currently robbed. Three men were just in the process of leaving this very bank, when the police cars stopped and the officers jumped out, aiming their guns at the culprits. One of the three men was Mary Lightly´s Nobody.

There was no tone to that tape but everybody in the room knew that the police men had yelled for the culprits to stop only a second after they´d jumped out of their cars. Still Nobody didn´t stop. His two companions flinched at the shouting cops. But what made them really jump was the shots their Boss suddenly fired at the cops.

The two criminals hit the ground, while Nobody shot at the cops and hit at least two of them instantly. The others shot back at him but he didn´t seem to care at all. He didn´t try to take cover, only kept shooting. A few times he jerked as if hit by bullets but he remained standing. He opened his mouth and shouted at his guys on the ground. The two of them got up and hurried over to their car, running bowed over to avoid being hit. This tactic helped only one of them to escape. The second one was hit and fell to the ground. Nobody didn´t look back, just jumped in the car and drove off, leaving his man behind.

After the video was finished, everybody in the room was quiet. Lassiter looked around in deep thought. This video was indeed disturbing. But was it a proof for anything the little profiler had indicated earlier? He wasn´t sure. It looked suspicious but was it any kind of proof? What were the odds for two superhuman serial killers to come to Santa Barbara in such a short time?

„Quick question." he spoke up, his knuckle still resting on his chin. „Is the fact that he killed someone from our station´s staff an indication that he wants to challenge the police in general?"

„So far there is no clue that would indicate anything, detective." Mary replied. „This is the aspect of Nobody that makes this man really dangerous. He´s totally unpredictable. He seems to need no motive at all to kill someone. That he killed your caretaker could indeed mean something." he gave him that much. „But it could also be a complete coincidence."

„Then how can we catch this man?" chief Vick wanted to know.

„To answer that question, or at least to try to, I´d like to go a little deeper into the profile of Nobody now." Mary said. He switched the projector again to show them some statistics that had been calculated over the years and years the FBI was working Nobody´s case now. And then he started to explain the twisted and obviously deeply disturbed psychology of this man.

Lassiter was listening to all of this but he was also thinking. He was thinking about calling Bennet. A part of him wanted nothing more than to run to the next phone and call the Company man and ask him for his help. But another part of him was more than just uncertain. It was the proud part of him, the part that was afraid of embarrassing himself. This sick bastard Nobody could have been wearing a vest.

All right, Lightly had a point when he said that the colleagues had aimed for the arms and legs too, but one could never be sure. Maybe this sick bastard had somehow gotten his hands on a bulletproof vest that had sleeves. Things like that were not common but it was not unthinkable either. One never knew.

If he would call Noah now just because Lightly claimed to have another suspect that had superhuman powers, he would make himself completely ridiculous. It would be like crying wolf just because he saw a shadow. He wouldn´t do something like that. Not at the first sight. Not without real proof.

This guy Nobody could as well be a completely normal sick bastard that was running loose in his town and if that was the case, Lassiter knew very well how to treat him. Catching him or killing him. For him it didn´t matter why this guy had chosen Santa Barbara from all the places in the world. But he would regret it that he´d come here. Lassiter would see to that.

...

The table with the heaps and heaps of old and partly useless paper, got pushed back when its owner fell against it. Billy had planned to clean it up for a while now, to get rid of the garbage and to arrange the still important stuff into a folder or something. He was working in an office where order was like air to breath but at home he was living in a constant mess. Each time he passed his desk, he made a mental note that he wanted, needed, to clean it up. And immediately after that mental note he made another one that said: It´s on the list. As soon as he found the time he would do it, and until then it was on the list. It had been on his list for weeks now. Or was it months? Didn´t matter anymore. Now the papers were flying around in a big cloud of chaos. Cleaning up the desk was not an issue anymore. Now it would be about cleaning up the appartement.

His hand tried to get a grip on the edge of the table but he slipped and suddenly the edge of the table was not under his butt anymore. He landed on the floor and only a second after that he heard his pens, he had stored in an old jello glass, land on the very same floor, only a few inches to his right. They splattered and rolled around like marbles. One of them rolled before Billy and then a foot stepped on it and crushed the poor thing. Billy skipped back a little.

„What do you want?" he asked defensively. „I told you I can´t do anything as long as I don´t get my hands on the keys to the file room."

„That´s very pity." the other guy replied leaning down to him.

„I will find him." Billy assured him. „Don´t worry. I always find my guys. Ask Stanley. He´ll tell you. I never disappointed him or any of the others."

„Well, but Stanley is not the one you disappointed here." was the response.

„I won´t disappoint you." Billy assured. „I just need some more time. Tomorrow morning I´ll try to get my hands on the keys and then …"

„Trying is not enough."

„I always get the keys. Ask Stan."

„Stan is dead." was the annoyed answer.

Billy´s face felt very cold all the sudden. „What?" he breathed. That couldn´t be. Stan dead? But …

„He disappointed me too." this crazy guy told him. „And I´m sick of getting disappointed. This was the last time. From now on I´ll take things into my own hands."

And as if to underline that statement he reached out his hand for this stupid insect to crush it.

It screamed. Of course, they always did. Sometimes that made him even angrier. Yeah, all the sudden they were small and humble where they had been arrogant and the centre of the universe before. Oh, how much he hated them. All of them. These pitiful assholes that were walking around on this planet as if they had rented the right to look down on others, on people like him who were nobodies to them. Well, in his case they were right. He was Nobody. He´d always been Nobody.

He´d never gotten a name – not a real one at least and the one he´d had once was long forgotten after so many years of living this shitty life in this shitty world. But being a nobody had his advantages. He didn´t need to be on the same level as these insects that thought of themselves as the masters of this world. He had the advantage of being his own master and to live following his own law only. There was no one that could keep him from that anyway. This time Nobody was coming back to haunt these arrogant suckers and teach them a lesson.

He was doing this for years now. And now he would do it again. But this time he would raise the bar. He had to. Because that was the only way to find the only person in this world, he considered to be better than the rest of them. The one person he´d never meet before but he´d heard so many wonderful things about. The one that hated this world and the humans that crouched around in it as much as he did. The one person that was like him, even better.

When Stanley had called him to tell him that he was in Santa Barbara, Nobody had almost not believed him. But then he´d seen the news and he´d known that it was his fate to meet him here in this city. So he´d come here to meet his fate, but Stanley had to mess up. And if that wasn´t enough this idiot Billy had messed up too. It was truly a shame that there were no good people to find anymore. So there was indeed no other way than to take it into his own hands.

Nobody straightened and turned away from the dead asshole on the ground. He felt his heart still racing and his head spinning. The warm blood on his hands was dropping to the ground, each drop sounding like a drum in Nobody´s ears. The rushing blood eased down a little. Slowly breathing was the trick. A rush like this one was nothing new to him. He had them once in a while, especially when he was dealing with something as degenerated as this shitface. But now it was over. He had let it out again and now he was calming down.

Yes, he would do it himself. He would find a way to find him. And looking down on the dead guy before him he even had an idea already how to do it. This one was no good for that anymore. His head was smashed and the brain was leaking out. That was no good anymore. He would take better care to not to smash the skull like that with the next one. And he would take good care that everybody would see what was missing afterwards. What better way to express his respect for this god amongst insects, than to perform an homage to his work? As soon as he would see the news he would know that someone was here in Santa Barbara, someone that was just like him.

Nobody smiled when he left the appartement. Yes, that was the way he would do it. That way he would finally meet up with Sylar. The one person in the world that was just like him. A predator that didn´t take orders from those worthless creatures that called themselves the top of the food chain. The one person beside himself that was just better than all of the others. A week, he guessed. Just a week and he would meet him. Face to face.

Thinking of that Nobody ran down the stairs like an excited little kid.

* * *

**You may leave a comment, people. I would really appreciate it.**

**And thanks for reading.**


	2. Anybody want a case?

**Anybody want a case?**

„I don´t know, Shawn." Gus said, shaking his head. „I don´t like this. This is weird."

„Yes." Shawn agreed, throwing a glance over at Lassiter and Jules who were talking to the chief in her office.

„I mean, it´s weirder than weird." Gus went on. „It´s as if every time Mary comes here, he tells us about a supernatural gifted killer."

„We don´t know if this guy is superhuman." Shawn recalled.

„But he could be."

Shawn only shrugged. „Sure, he could." he admitted, lack of other arguments.

„We should have left this station while we still could."

„Now it´s too late."

„And that is your fault."

„Why is it my fault?" Shawn cried, now looking at Gus for the first time in their talk.

„You are always too slow." Gus told him. „Especially when it comes to turn away from trouble."

„That´s not true." Shawn cried. But then he halted and thought this through. In the end he could only shrug. „Okay, maybe it´s true." he admitted.

„That´s what I meant."

„But even if we would have left, the case would still be here. It wouldn´t go away by ignoring it."

„But I would feel saver, Shawn."

„That´s ridiculous."

„I didn´t deny that. I only said I would feel saver."

„But why?"

Gus was about to say something to explain himself, but in this moment they both noticed that someone was standing right next to them. The small man had once again sneaked up on them without them noticing. The two of them flinched when they finally saw him. Mary didn´t move a bit, just looked at them.

„I heard Sylar was dead." he said without any transition. „Is that true?"

Shawn´s first reaction was it to look at Gus. When he faced Mary again, he found himself lack of words for a moment. For what reason he didn´t even know. Maybe because Mary had been the one who´d worked Sylar´s case long before they´d even heard of him. And now he had to ask them, what happened to his long year suspect. That kinda sounded unfair.

„Yes, that´s true." Shawn finally said. „You heard about that?"

„I called detective Lassiter and asked him what became of the case, for which he wanted my Sylar-files." Mary told them. „He said that it was done, that Sylar was dead and the case had somehow solved itself. Then he said he had work to do and hung up on me."

„Yeah, that sounds like Lassie."

„What happened?" Mary wanted to know.

Again Shawn needed to look at Gus before he could go on. „Well … that´s kindofa long story." he said, feeling uncomfortable.

„He saved our lives." Juliet´s voice surprisingly spoke up behind them. They all turned around and saw her standing there, a file in her hand. Lasster had left the chief´s office as well and was already back at his desk. „He sacrificed himself." Juliet finished her explanation for Mary.

Shawn searched her gaze and she looked back at him with open eyes. He could see deeply into her through that gaze, just as always. But usually he saw a happy person in those eyes. This time he saw someone that felt a deep pity for something that was long done and that could not be fixed again. And strange enough, he felt that he was catching this regret the longer he looked at her like that. No matter how much this man had freaked him out, it had been a cool thing to hunt a superhuman serial killer. On some strange and probably not very healthy level it had been cool.

„That´s true." he said at last, breaking the silence that had emerged so far. „He did."

„I don´t understand." Mary admitted, his face somehow sad and heartbreakingly confused.

„It was …" Shawn started but before he could say anymore, Lassiter´s voice echoed through the whole station.

„O´Hara! We just got a call. Another body has been found. We´re heading out to the crime scene."

Before Shawn even knew what had happened he found himself dragged along with all the others and out of the station. A minute later he sat in the car with Gus and they followed Lassiter´s Crown Vick along the streets until they stopped before an appartement house. The coroners truck was already parked there and when they entered the appartement, CSI guys were busy taking pictures and all kinds of samples. The dead man lay in the living room, next to an overturned desk and in the middle of lots and lots of papers.

„Seems there was a fight before he died." Lassiter commented the sight. „O´Hara. You question the neighbours."

Juliet nodded and went out again. Shawn could see that Gus envied her about this task. So far he hadn´t seen the worst of the body because the head was covered with some loose papers. But the way these sheets were coloured, Shawn guessed that Gus wouldn´t like to see what was beneath it. And he should be right about that. Lassiter had just demanded to get the papers as evidence in case there should be a clue on them, when the CSI was done with taking pictures of the body and removed the sheets from the victim´s head.

Gus immediately started to gag when he saw what had happened to the man´s skull and turned around to hurry out of the room. Lassiter looked down on the body with an expression that gloomy, Shawn had rarely seen even on him. Jules came back to them and when she noticed the cause of death, she looked very pale. No wonder, it was a gory sight. Shawn felt sick too. Mary´s face was just blank.

„Yes." he nodded with his hands in his pockets. „That is his MO."

„Nobody?" Lassiter asked as if he didn´t know what he meant.

„Yes." Mary affirmed. „He always kills his men with his bare hands."

„Bare? Means there have to be traces. DNA, prints. CSI, you look this body up and down." Lassiter demanded from the forensics. „I want nothing to be overlooked."

„That won´t get you very far, detective." Mary mentioned. „We went down that road more than once. Of course he leaves his prints and DNA. But since we already stated that he has no identity, there is only one thing we can do with these results. We can be sure it was him who killed the victims. But so far that never resulted in his arrest."

„Well, then it will be different this time." Lassiter insisted determined.

„I hope so." was all Mary would respond.

Lassiter looked at the small man for two more seconds and then just dismissed him. „O´Hara, do we already know who this man was?" he asked his partner.

„His name is William Donovan." she told, grateful that she could focus her attention on the notepad in her hand. „He works for the registration office as an archivist. His neighbour found him around five. She said she woke up from a nap because there were some strange noises and she came over to check if something was wrong. The door was not locked so she went in … and found him like that. Other neighbours affirm her statement. They heard the noise too and they say Mr. Donovan had screamed a few times."

„You would scream too if a guy with supernatural powers was beating you to death." Gus said from his place in the door. He was looking back at them with a greyish color in his face.

„Gus, don´t be the boy that cries wild dog all the time." Shawn said, trying to sound indifferent.

„He cried wolf, Shawn." Gus corrected.

„We didn´t affirm that this guy is a Special so far." Shawn went on as if he hadn´t heard the correction.

„You can ignore this fact and pretend that he is not." Gus replied fiercely. „But I intent to prepare myself for that from the beginning."

„A very wise decision, Gus." Mary praised and even Lassiter nodded approvingly. Or at least as if he was considering if he should approve to that.

„Thank you." Gus said and threw Shawn a look.

„I wonder if it is a coincidence that he works for the registration office." Mary mumbled, his eyes back on the body.

„What do you mean?" Lassiter wanted to know.

„Wow wow wow." Shawn cried when he realized what Mary obviously had realized just a second ago. Hoping that he´d been fast enough to claim Mary´s idea as his own vison, he raised a hand to his temple. „I´m getting something." he said. „I see folders and names and casefiles."

Mary nodded in agreement. So far he didn´t attempt to take over and just waited for Shawn to go on.

„I believe it is not a coincidence, Mary." the fake psychic addressed him dramatically. „I feel that there is a connection between our dead caretaker and this dead archivist. I see that they … knew each other. And that Nobody knew them both too. They were supposte to do something for him and they messed it up. That´s why he killed them."

„First the S.B.P.D. and now the registration office." Juliet summarized with a thoughtful glance down to the ground. „Sounds like a pattern."

Lassiter nodded at her. „This guy is looking for something." he spoke it out.

„Or …" Shawn touched his temple once again. „Someone." he added, his voice deep and very dramatic. A push into his shoulder made him stagger and lose his rhythm. Gus had entered the gory room again, just to end this stupid act of his.

Shawn spread his arms. „What?"

...

Nobody stood in the allay, his back leaning against the wall, his eyes up in the sky. He was waiting. Waiting for fate to walk by. Not his fate, god no. But he was on a mission fate had sent him to and that meant whatever he did to accomplish this mission would be directed by fate as well. He wouldn´t choose the sacrifices. Fate would. He would just stand here and wait for someone to pass by and offer him or herself to him. For him it didn´t matter anyway who it would be. They were all nothing but cattle. Domestic livestock. Just good enough to be slaughtered when the masters wanted to eat. Only that he wouldn´t be the one to eat here. No, he wouldn´t go that far.

He knew Sylar had taken the brains of his victims to eat them later on. Why he did this, Nobody didn´t want to judge. He could ask him as soon as he met him in person. But until then he would not question what Sylar had done all these years. He would only imitate it as best as he could.

His hand wandered down to his pocket, where the knife was hidden. Well, it was barely hidden. It was a hunters knife after all and his pockets were not deep enough to really concile it. But he didn´t need to concile it anyway. If anyone had stopped him to ask stupid questions about it, he would have found his victim much faster than expected. But no one had stopped him to ask questions. So he stood here and waited.

The place was a good one. A dark allay, small and hidden. But not too isolated. A pray had to find the way here after all. When he turned his head he could see the main street. Cars were passing by once in a while. With each hour the traffic had gotten thinner. Nobody had watched. Waited. People had passed by but he hadn´t addressed any of them. Had not attacked any of them. Not yet. It had been too early. Too bright. He needed the safety of the darkness to do what he´d come here for. To really do what he had in mind, he needed to be undisturbed at least for a few minutes and if he would have attacked someone at bright daylight, others would have been attracted by the screams. He couldn´t risk that.

Not that he was afraid of being caught. He´d never been caught and that would never change. He was just too slick for them. Too smart. Too invincible. But this time it was not just some random killing of some random asshole. This time it was something special. Something very delicate. He was copying a master in the art of killing after all. And he did it for the first time. He wanted to take extra care to not to do anything wrong. This was not just a simple finger exercise either. It was supposte to be a message. Sylar would see what he would do tonight and he would judge how well he´d done it. And so Nobody was actually nervous. For the first time in his life, he was nervous before a killing. And that was confusing. But it was also wonderful in some way.

He´d never felt like that. Usually when he was killing, he did it spontaneously. Because the anger took over or the need for blood was getting too strong again. When he was sick with the world once again and just needed to make someone pay for all the shit that was walking around in it. But this time it was not that simple. This time it was art. He would have to move carefully. He would have to do it in a clean way, not as savage as he usually did it. This time it was special. This time it was for Sylar.

Outside on the street he heard footsteps. Nobody straightened. That was it. He knew it. He could feel it. All his senses were strained on this one goal. The goal he had come here to accomplish. He would be quick, he would be careful and he would be perfect. He would kill the person quickly and then he would open the head with the hunting knife. No more injuries to the body than necessary. Only what was necessary to remove the brain. Just the way Sylar had done it all these years.

Nobody smiled. He took the knife and held it tight. He imagined that Sylar had used a knife just like that to open the skulls of his victims. Hunters used it to cleanly open their pray so it was only reasonable to assume that Sylar had used a knife like that. Yes, Nobody was sure it was that way. And even if not, Sylar would understand that he had to use what he had until he could teach him a better way. Until that day, this hunting knife would do just fine.

The footsteps were very close now. Only a few more steps and it would be there. The pray that would serve him as an oblation. Nobody´s heart sped up. And then the person who would have the honor to be the first message for Sylar, passed the alley. Nobody didn´t hesitate to look who it was and just jumped.

...

The computer beeped and then started. It asked for the code to identify it´s user. Noah Bennet typed it in and then waited until the screen showed him that the computer was ready. He opened his email account. That was the first thing he did in the morning, every day, even before he got himself a breakfast. There were several junk mails of course, but also two mails that he was very happy to see.

The first one was from Lauren. She was in New York, meeting with Angela Petrelli to help with the management of the new Company. After what she was writing it was going good. A promising new start for their former employer and Angela had even mentioned that she would like to see the two of them back on her payroll in the near future. Noah was still reluctant to agree to that offer but he kept it in mind, just in case.

The second email was an even more happy one. It was from his daughter, who was currently traveling through Canada to meet a few young people up there, who had certain special abilities. She and Gretchen had set off last week and they were going to be up there for at least three more weeks. The mountains were beautiful, Claire wrote and she had never seen trees that grew that big.

Noah smiled. He was happy that his little girl was making her way into this world on such strong legs. And that she wasn´t alone on this way. When she´d started to form this community of specials, he´d been uncertain. But now he was really glad that Claire had these people. Her friends. It was a good thing to know that she didn´t necessarily need him anymore to take care of herself. It still hurt a little but it was also a good thing to know.

Damn, sometimes he wondered if every parent had to go through such confusing and ambivalent feelings when the time came around when they had to let their children go. Probably. But that didn´t make it any easier for him to deal with that. He could only try to trust her and be happy that she was happy with the way she lived her life.

His stomach reminded him on the fact that he hadn´t had his breakfast yet and he got up and went into the kitchen. While he made himself a sandwich and a coffee, he switched on the TV for the news. The second most important thing for him in the morning. Keeping track on what was going on in this city he´d actually started to consider his new home. When he´d started to see it that way, he couldn´t remember. But he knew that if he would actually agree to work for the company again, he would do it from Santa Barbara and not in New York. The facility in Durham Street was as good as the one in Manhattan and when Angela wanted to talk to him, there were always phones and screens. But going back to New York was not an option anymore. Not for him. Not really. Why he didn´t know. Maybe it was the nice weather here in California.

The little TV in the corner of his kitchen came to life and there was already a reporter filling the screen. Noah, turned halfway around to poor himself a coffee while he listened to the news, this young woman had to tell.

„ … _is the FBI investigating for over ten years now."_ she just said and Noah listened up, more interested now. An FBI investigation? _„This is the third body found within only three days now."_ the reporter went on. _„All of them are considered to be the work of the same culprit. The last victim however was found with her head opened. Her brain, which was obviously removed from the skull was nowhere to be found near the crime scene."_

Noah stopped chewing halfway through a bite of toast. Was he hearing what he though he heard?

„_This newest development in the case seems to point into another direction, than the police had investigated so far." _the reporter went on._ „To a case, also very well known to the FBI. A few years ago a murderer that called himself Sylar used to kill his victims and remove their brains in the exact same way as the recent victim …"_

Noah sat before the TV while the reporter went on telling the audience about the former case of the murderer that had called himself Sylar, but he barely heard what she said. All he could think of was: That´s impossible.

...

Carlton Lassiter, head detective of the S.B.P.D. was not a cheery person in general but today he was even less cheery than usually. Today he was frustrated and seriously livid. This latest victim that had been found in the early hours of the morning, made the case they were working on not just more complicated, it also made his insides take somersaults. He knew it was impossible that this victim was killed by Sylar and even Lightly had agreed on that. But the fact that the top of the head had been removed … Carlton hated this. Whoever this guy was, he was crazier than they all had expected, so much was for sure.

„Carlton." someone called him through the station.

The detective looked up from his file and into the concerned face of Noah Bennet who hurried over to his desk.

„Noah. What …?" Lassiter asked but if he was honest this question was totally useless. Of course he knew what the Company man was doing here. It had been all over the news, for god´s sake.

„I´ve seen the news." Noah told him. „What is all this about?"

Lassiter was in the process to answer but Bennet was faster.

„Her head was open and the brain removed?" he asked him. „Is that true? Please tell me that´s just exaggerating of the press."

Carlton sighed. „I was about to call you myself." he admitted.

„This is simply impossible, Carlton." Noah told him as if he didn´t know that himself. The detective got up and gestured for the Company man to follow him.

„Come with me." he said quietly. „There are some things we need to talk about."

The two of them walked a few steps until they had left the bullpen behind. Then Noah couldn´t hold onto himself any longer. He just needed to know.

„What is it, Carlton?" he asked.

„It´s a man the FBI calls Nobody." the detective answered. „It seems that he´s looking for someone and yes, he just killed a women in Sylar-style. We believe it´s either a coincidence or a copycat killing."

„You can´t be serious with that." Noah snapped in disbelieve. „Coincidence? Copycat? How much time passed by since you saw the last real victim of Sylar´s killing spree?"

„How much time passed by since we all saw him die, Noah?" Lassiter shot back.

The Company man didn´t answer, just looked at him. Carlton had spoken quietly but his words had been clear. He wouldn´t discuss impossible things. He had never done that with Spencer and he would not do it with Noah. He knew Sylar was dead and he would not argue about a truth that was as simple as that.

„I need a DNA sample of this woman." Noah demanded after a while. Lassiter opened his mouth to object but Noah was again faster than he. „She is on none of our lists, I already checked that." he told him. „But that doesn´t mean that she´s not a special."

„How do you know who she is?" Lassiter demanded to know.

„I have my sources to find out names if I want to." Noah replied. „I checked the old lists of the Company as well as the list Suresh put together. Her name is on none of them."

„Then why do you want a sample of her?"

„To test if she is a Special after all. One that was never registered."

„You make it sound as if there was an official registration office for these people."

„The Company was this registration office, Carlton. It has been for many many years. But even we couldn´t keep track on everyone. Many slipped through the mashes. I know. I helped to let some slip through. Maybe someone helped this woman too. Or maybe she just got lucky to never draw attention. In any case, we need to know."

„What do you expect to find out about that?" Carlton wanted to know. „You saw him die just like we all did."

There was no need for him to explain who he was talking about. They both knew it.

„Maybe there is another explanation for that anyway." Noah admitted to Lassiter´s point of view. „The open head is something we cannot afford to ignore, Carlton. We at least need to test if she had an ability."

„How?"

„I´ll ask Suresh for his help."

Lassiter needed a moment to realize the mistake in this idea. „Where is he?" he asked Noah and was already afraid of the answer.

„Last time I knew, he was in Switzerland." Noah told him.

Carlton couldn´t help but groaned in exasperation. Why did this talk start to remind him on one of the many ridiculous banters he had had with the fake psychic over the years? Discussing impossible ideas that no one else but an adult with the mind of a five year old would come up with.

But this was not Spencer he was talking to. It was Noah. And Noah was not suggesting things lightly. At least so far he had never done that.

„How is he supposte to help us, if he´s in Europe?" Carlton asked to give the Company man at least a chance to convince him.

„If we had a lab that could do the work for us under the radar." Noah immediately said. „I only need Suresh´s expertise to tell us what the results say. This is something he can do easily over the phone."

Lassiter thought this over. This at least sounded like something that could be realized.

„I think I have someone who can do that for us." he told Noah.

The Company man seemed relieved at this information. „Who?" he asked him.

Carlton threw a checking glance around. „Not here." he said and led Noah back to the bullpen. He needed to tell O´Hara to hold the fort for a while … and that he would be back after he checked on a lead.


	3. Neutral Ground

**Neutral Ground**

The control room was busy and filled with people. It wasn´t loud but the sounds were everywhere. People were talking in different languages and still the process seemed to flow without any problems. The experiment they were about to iniziate was almost complete.

Mohinder Suresh stood between all of this like a misplaced mason in a conference of brain surgeons. Someone gave a signal to start and then everything happened only on the monitors. They were showing diagrams and numbers that meant nothing to Mohinder but were obviously very exciting for Frank Wieland and his team.

„We´re measuring Hawking radiation." someone cried.

„The particles are gone." another one added.

„Distances get shorter … Size of the dimensions still not fitting … Energy measured during the collisions extremely high … Events have occurred."

Frank clapped his hands in a triumphant way. He was smiling radiantly.

„What does that mean?" Mohinder asked him.

„That it worked." Frank told him, his smile growing even more excited.

„It did? You created a black hole?"

„Well, not exactly. There is no black hole in the LHC anymore. If there ever was one. But the experiment was a full success."

„Then I assume the higher pulse that I measure can be ignored." Mohinder mentioned and switched off the mini heart rate monitor, he had attached to Frank the whole time to watch his vital signs.

„Man, you can ignore that." Frank laughed. „We were so close to see at least three other dimensions."

Mohinder could only chuckle about the physicist´s excitement „As long as _you_ know what you are talking about." he said.

„It´s like the string theory." Frank immediately started to explain to him. „Black holes could only occur if there are more than one dimension and only if they have the right size at the right space. In this case that wasn´t the case."

„But … doesn´t that mean the experiment failed?" Mohinder asked uncertain.

„Not at all. We had the radiation to prove it didn´t."

Mohinder could only smile politely and shook his head. „I´m sorry, I don´t understand that."

„In Quantum physics there can only occur a particle and the respective anti-particle." Frank told him. „But they would annihilate each other right after their creation. That happens so fast that we cannot detect any difference between energy and no energy. But it happens all the time. Now imagine that such a particle- anti-particle pair occurred right at the edge of a mini hole. One of them would fall into the hole while the other one could escape just in time. This escaped particle is what we call the Hawking radiation. Since the first particle fell into the hole, the mass of the hole decreased, so there is nothing left for us to detect. Except for the radiation."

„So there really was a black hole in there." Mohinder dared to summarize what he had understood from all of this.

„That´s the theory." Frank nodded. „We can´t prove it though, because no one invented the technology to take a picture of such a mini hole yet."

„And what do you think?" Mohinder asked him curious. „If I would ask you to take a guess. Was there a black hole?"

„Are you asking me that as a colleague of science or as my doctor?" Frank wanted to know, referring to the last few weeks in which Mohinder had watched him closely, doing one test after the other, to find if there was any trace left of his ability.

Mohinder just shrugged. „Both." he said.

Frank looked over at the monitors for a moment. „I think there was one." he then said and nodded in a selfconfident manner. „I don´t know how to describe it. But I … can feel it. There was something. I could always feel that there were things happening in there." For a moment neither of them said anything and Frank´s excitement was replaced by uncertainty again. „Is this a bad sign that this hasn´t changed?" he asked.

„To test that theory, I´ll need a few more samples from you." Mohinder replied and held up an empty syringe.

Frank sighed and offered him his arm. „Go ahead." he said. „But leave me some of the good stuff. I´m literally living from it."

Mohinder smiled and took the sample that he needed. When he was done, he told Frank that he would have the test results in a few hours from now. But if he was honest, he already knew what the result of his test would be even before he saw it affirmed in the lab.

He´d been working with Frank for over a month now and there had been no signs that indicated that there was anything left of the physicist´s ability. There were no cells that could be called out of the ordinary, no genetic abnormalities and no physical reactions to Frank´s closeness to the LHC. Also there had been no reports of missing people or mysterious destructions in the area, so Mohinder assumed that the mini black holes the team created in the LHC – or not – were the only black holes that occurred in the near area.

The samples he´d taken today were officially meant to be the last. He hadn´t told Frank that so far but when the test results affirmed his expectations, he decided to not to keep it secret anymore. When the physicist came to him in the afternoon to see what the tests had brought, he showed it to him with an almost proud smile.

„There are no aftereffects visible." he told him. „At least not that I can see it."

„So … I´m really healed." Frank finally accepted this diagnosis.

He had been very careful with his hopes in that matter, Mohinder had known that. But four weeks of working the LHC again with no accidents or ripped open dimensions for that matter, was a good sign. A very good one. Mohinder had just affirmed that for him.

„Thanks, Doc." the physicist said and it was obvious how relieved he was.

„I have to thank you." Mohinder replied. „You were my first patient I had the pleasure to use that remedy on." But the pleasure this opportunity had brought for him was immediately replaced by regret and he lowered his head. „Unfortunately I won´t be able to repeat it." he stated.

„Why that?" Frank asked with a confused frown.

„When I made it I had to hurry and therefor I had no time to document it." Mohinder explained how the remedy had been done. „I was just so set to stop Sylar that I ignored anything else. And now that he´s gone, I can´t repeat what I did anyway. His brain substance was the base for this remedy."

Frank nodded understandingly. „It´s really a shame." he stated.

„Yeah, it is." Mohinder agreed and took on a new smile. „But the good news is … you´re healthy." he said. „And in top condition. There should be no problem in the near future. That means my work here is done."

„You want to leave then?"

„As soon as I´m done with my report."

„Where do you want to go?"

„I´m going back to India. Picking up my work again where I left it."

„To study people´s abilities?"

„If I find some who will offer their cooperation." Mohinder admitted a little reluctant. It was never easy to convince people that you had only their best interest in mind, especially when you started with telling them that there was a genetic abnormality about them.

„You could do that from here, too." Frank offered. „I´m sure I could convince Professor Braungart to give you your own lab in here."

For a moment Mohinder was struck by surprise. But then his sense for realism took over and made him smile in a generous way. Things like that didn´t happen. Not to him. Even if Frank meant this offer honestly, but that didn´t mean his boss would see it the same way.

„That´s really kind of you." he said therefor. „But you already did enough. That is not your fight."

„Science shouldn´t be a fight." Frank said in an almost sad tone.

Mohinder couldn´t deny that. But there were too many things in his past that proved different. At least for him. He looked at Frank not less sad than the physicist had looked when he´d spoken.

„Sometimes it is." he said.

...

Mohinder was just in the process of packing his stuff, when his cell phone started to ring. He answered it without stopping his business of packing. The plane would leave in a few hours and he didn´t want to be late.

„Suresh." he answered the call and stuffed a bunch of shirts in his bag.

„Mohinder." a totally unexpected voice said and made him gasp silently. „This is Noah Bennet."

„Noah?" Mohinder knew it was close to be paranoid but the fact that the ex-Company man called him right in this moment, just didn´t feel right. „What is it?" he asked him.

„I need to ask you a favour." Noah said. „There has been a murder here in Santa Barbara. A woman was killed."

Mohinder felt his throat tightening. Somehow he knew what Noah´s next sentence would be even before he said it.

„Her head was opened … and her brain was removed."

Mohinder had no idea if he had moved to the chair by instinct or by pure coincidence but it was a good thing that he was standing right next to it, because all the sudden his legs gave in and he fell right into it.

„That´s impossible." he breathed when he sat. „Sylar is dead, you know that."

„Still that body exists." Noah replied calmly.

„No." was all Mohinder knew to say. „That´s impossible. You were there that night. You know what happened."

„I know. But that doesn´t change the facts, Mohinder. I can´t ignore this body."

The geneticist swallowed. All the sudden the warm air of his room seemed to be much colder than before. He tried to think, to somehow make sense of all these impossible information.

„You think it could be a copycat or something?" he finally asked.

„Maybe." Noah admitted. „Or maybe … somebody wanted her ability. If she had one. Not necessarily Sylar."

„What are you talking about?"

„We´ve seen that people can have the same abilities." Noah explained himself. „Matt had the same mind reading ability like his father. Sylar got his ability from his father too as far as we know."

„Are you saying this could have been done by a relative of Sylar?" Mohinder cried and couldn´t help but laughed about the ridiculous sound of this theory.

„Or by someone who has the same ability by pure coincidence." Noah replied absolutely reasonable. „Or …" he went on. „It could be all pure coincidence. But we need to find that out. Will you help us?"

Mohinder blinked. The laughter had died in his throat again. Now the question was really serious.

„I´m in Switzerland." he informed Noah. „How could I help you?"

„We thought of that." the Company man replied confidently. „There´s a lab assistant here that will do the tests for us. You only need to tell him what to do and when the results are there … what they mean. Can you do that for me?"

Mohinder closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. Did he have any choice? Why was it, he wondered for a moment, that even in death, Sylar wouldn´t let him go? But of course there was no answer to this question. There would never be one.

„Let me talk to this lab assistant." he said at last.

„Thanks, Mohinder." Noah Bennet sounded relieved.

...

Somewhat around an hour later, Mohinder finally finished the call and hung up. His ear was hot and he felt as if he had been in a conference about continuing the funding of his research with the headmaster of the university. He barely believed it when the clock told him it had only been fifty-two minutes since Noah had called him. The exhaustion he felt was usually something he only knew after a week of tensed research and very less sleep. But it was not his body that was exhausted. It was his mind that troubled him.

He was confused. Very confused. What had happened? And how the hell could it happen so fast? He´d just been packing to go back home to India and now … he wasn´t even sure what was now. The only thing he was sure about was the fact that Sylar couldn´t be the one who´d killed this woman in Santa Barbara. Because Sylar was dead. Wasn´t he?

Someone knocked on his door, but he barely heard it. A minute or so later, the door was just opened and Frank Wieland peeked in.

„Hey, Doc." he greeted uncertain. When he met Mohinder´s gaze his smile vanished and was replaced by a frown. „What´s the matter?" he asked. „You look as if you´ve seen a ghost."

Mohinder wanted to laugh but he just couldn´t. This comment was too close to the truth to be funny.

„Frank …" he started thoughtful.

He had to make himself go on. He knew the Swizz would probably wonder if he had lost his mind but he just needed to ask him this question.

„You are a physician." he stated. „Those black holes are your expertise. Is there any possibility that Sylar … might have survived … this …?" he found himself lack of words to really describe where he wanted to go with this. But Frank seemed to have understood it anyway.

„Why are you asking me that?" he wanted to know.

„There was a murder in Santa Barbara." Mohinder told him. „I just got off the phone with Bennet. A woman was killed the exact same way Sylar used to do it … back in the days."

For a moment Frank seemed to be shocked as well by that information. But then he lowered his gaze and shook his head.

„All I can say is that a black hole is pure gravity." he said. „No human body would be able to stand the pressure in there. He would have been crushed."

„Sylar is no normal human." Mohinder stated. „He can heal."

„Even then." Frank insisted. „A black hole is not like in the films a wormhole into another dimension or something like that. Nothing that opens at one point like an entrance and at another as the exit. What´s in there is in there. Gone. Destroyed. Crushed. I´m sorry but there is no way that he survived that. I would wish it too but …"

„That´s not why I asked." Mohinder stopped him, still deeply in his thoughts. „I just needed to be sure that … that whoever killed this woman in Santa Barbara …"

„I understand." Frank said, nodding at him reassuringly.

Mohinder was grateful for this. More than he could express, especially in this moment. His mind was still racing, trying to find a hold by making sense of all this craziness that happened to come upon him once again. But if there really was no way for it being Sylar – and honestly, he never really believed that this could be possible in any way – then there was only one other conclusion to this mystery.

„Then it is a copycat." he spoke it out. „Who would do something like that? Imitating Sylar?"

Frank could only shrug and shake his head. „I´m just a physician." he recalled. „That question should be answered by a profiler."

...

Mary Lightly sat on his desk in the Santa Barbara police station and stared down on the files he had brought with him. It was already getting late but he still couldn´t stop thinking about this case. Nobody had never done anything like this before. He had killed his people with clubs and knifes and most of the time with his bare hands, bludgeoning them to death in his never ending rage. But he had never done anything only remotely as skillful as this. The way he had opened the head of this woman to remove the brain …

Mary was sure it hadn´t been Sylar who´d done that. The autopsie had shown that a knife had been used to open the skull and that it had been done by an unexperienced person who had no idea where to cut. He had needed several tries to finally find the right line to get through the skull. That was not the clean work Mary remembered from Sylar´s victims. Sylar had known very well how and where to cut and as far as the autopsies were concerned, he had not used a knife.

Back then Mary had wondered for nights what he´d used instead. But now of course he knew it. Strange that he´d been able to believe in the shapeshifting ability of this killer and the same time he´d missed to consider telekinesis as well. It hadn´t even occurred to him that he could have such an ability.

But Sylar was not the problem anymore. Sylar was dead. This man was even more dangerous than Sylar because he killed without any kind of reason, except maybe for his hate. Nobody might not have an identity but Mary knew that he had a psyche. And a very pathological one for that matter. Nobody was just hating and loathing everybody on this planet and he let everybody feel that as soon as he felt like it.

Mary suspected that Nobody had had the typical hard childhood just like most of the killers. That he had experienced a lot of violence in his childhood and probably a lot of betrayal and loneliness, what would explain that he never took a partner of any sorts. Sure he let others do the dirty work for him but those guys were mostly small minds and he dropped them as quickly as he picked them up. Sometimes he killed them himself after he was done with them.

No, Nobody was not the type that took a partner. He just hated. That was his motive for everything he did. It had been his only motive for years. But now … now it seemed he had gained a totally new motive. To copy the MO of another serial killer the way he had done it … that indicated respect for this other person. Maybe even worshipping. That was something new to Nobody´s profile. Mary had not expected that. It was interesting. But it also meant that he had to rethink his whole profile again. From the start.

„Mr. Lightly?" the voice of Karen Vick dragged him out of his musing. Mary looked around and saw her standing in the door. „What are you still doing here?" she asked.

„Thinking, chief." he answered her.

She gave him a kind smile. „It´s late." she informed him. „You should go home and rest."

„Maybe you´re right." Mary admitted. He felt tired and now that he stood up from his chair he realized how long he´d been sitting there. The chief winced at the cracking sound that came from his back when he stretched himself a little.

„Good night, chief." he said after he´d gathered his files and passed her to finally leave the station.

„Good night." she replied, slightly relieved.

It was half past eight and they could all need a night full of sleep. The next few days would not get any better she suspected. And it should turn out that she was right with that.

...

It was six o´clock in the morning and the lab was still pretty much abandoned. Except for the caretaker and the security staff, no one was around that early. But Adam Doyle had chosen to start work an hour early today for a reason. He didn´t want anyone to see what he was doing. The job he had agreed to do was for the Santa Barbara police fair enough, but Gus had told him it had to be kept under the radar so he figured it wasn´t completely official police business. And since Adam was as geeky as Gus when it came to secret missions and forensic stuff, Adam was only too eager to do his best so it would really stay under the radar.

Just to get a chance to work on one of those cases, Gus and his buddy worked on all the time, was cool enough to beat one year of research on pharma lab rats. Not that Adam didn´t love his job, but sometimes it was worth a quick escape into the world of crime solving. God, he felt like one of these cool guys from CSI-New York.

He threw one last checking glance out of the door to make sure none of the security guys was interested in him – why should they, they knew him and he had told them he wanted to work up some free time in the afternoon for a date with his girlfriend – and then hurried over to his secret lab where he had done the tests for Gus´ police friends. The results were there by now and ready to be reported. Adam took his cellphone and hesitated a moment. What time was it in Switzerland now? Not that it was in the middle of the night there. But no, they were ahead so it had to be somewhat in the afternoon there. Adam dialed the number.

„This is Dr. Suresh." the accented voice of the man that had given him instructions for these tests the day before, answered his call.

„Dr. Suresh? Hi, ehm. Adam here. From Santa Barbara?"

„Yes." the Indian geneticist replied eagerly. „You have the test results?"

„Yes." Adam told him proudly. „I´m looking at them right now. But to be honest, I´m not sure what you hope to find in there."

„To be totally honest with you. I hope to find nothing at all." Dr. Suresh answered and confused the pharmaceutical lab assistant a little. „What do the cells show you?" he asked him. „Are there any abnormalities?"

„I might be able to find them better if you would just tell me what to look for exactly." Adam probed still hoping for some inside information about this case he was helping with.

„I just did." was the short reply.

Damn, Adam thought but had to run with that disappointing answer.

„Well, there is nothing special that I could see." he informed the reticent geneticist. „Honestly. What are we looking for?" he tried it again. „A disease or something?"

„You could call it that." Suresh replied vaguely. „I´m not allowed to talk about it."

„Oh, come on, doctor." Adam now dared to risk a more direct approach. „I did these tests for you and I´m practically risking my job here. A few answers are not too much to ask."

There was a brief silence in the line and Adam was already afraid the other one might hang up the next moment. That was a ridiculous thing to think, he knew that. They needed the test results after all. But he was still scared to lose this opportunity.

„It´s more like a mutation." Suresh finally told him and Adam exhaled in relief. The same time his heart started to speed up. Did he just say mutation? Like in X-Men?

„Not every human being gets it." Suresh explained it to him. „And we don´t know why the ones who get them, get them."

„A mutation?" Adam repeated speechless.

„It´s nothing catching." the geneticist hurried to assure him. „But it has to be kept under the radar to keep people from panicking. It´s … how do you Americans say? A matter of National Security."

„Don´t worry I got this part." Adam assured him. „Wow. Okay. W … what shell I look for?"

„Is there any change in the mitochondria?" Suresh wanted to know.

„This mutation effects that?" Adam cried excited. Man that was so cool.

„Sometimes." was the hesitant answer of the geneticist.

„No, there´s nothing out of the ordinary." Adam told him.

„How about the cellular fluid?" Suresh kept asking.

„Looks normal to me."

Geneticist, Adam thought to himself. Of course, now that makes perfect sense. If that was a mutation that effected the body cells of the human host, you of course needed a geneticist to do the diagnosis. He shook his head in amazement but in this moment he also noticed that the doctor on the other end had grown silent all the sudden.

„Doctor?" Adam asked uncertain. „You still there?"

„You can tell Bennet that I said the answer is no." Suresh told him at last. „She is not a special. He knows what that means. And please tell him that I´ll be flying back to India."

„All right." Adam replied a little startled but that couldn´t deminish his excitement that he still felt. „Thanks, Doc." he said therefor, a smile on his face that went almost from ear to ear. „It was an experience."

Suresh said his goodbye and Adam, regretfully hung up. Man, that was probably the coolest phone call he´d ever had in his whole life.

...

A few hours after Mohinder had gotten off the phone with Adam Doyle from Santa Barbara, he had finished his packing and was ready to leave C.E.R.N. It was funny. Yesterday he had been reluctant to leave. Today he couldn´t wait to get away. What was it that every call from Mr. Noah Bennet had the tendency to freak him out? Was it just Noah´s personality or was the man indeed a magnet for bad news? Mohinder didn´t know and he didn´t want to know. All he wanted was to get out. Away from all of this and back to his senses. He wanted to get the trouble out of his system.

Frank asked him one last time if he didn´t want to consider his offer to talk to Professor Braungart about giving him a permanent job at C.E.R.N. but Mohinder declined politely. He couldn´t have explained to the physicist why he felt the urge to run away, but Frank seemed to understand anyway. He didn´t try to probe any further and Mohinder was very grateful for that. So he left and when he drove through the gate that separated the area of C.E.R.N. from the rest of the world, he really felt as if he was leaving a world behind to enter another one. A world he knew a little better than the one he just left behind. Not a better world but one that he knew to handle.

But even that was not a given fact anymore, now was it? Not after all the things that had happened to him over these last years. Learning that people with superhuman powers existed, chasing a superhuman powered serial killer that had murdered his father, gaining superhuman powers himself … How messed up could a life become in only a few years? And especially this last year. These last months. And as if that wasn´t enough to need therapy in order to deal with it, there was one thing that troubled him even more than all of this. And this was – surprise, surprise – Sylar.

Never in his life Mohinder would have expected to feel remorse for the death of this killer. He´d denied this even to himself so far. Had told himself that it was only the memories that troubled him and the close destruction of the world they had prevented only by an inch. But there was no denying about the fact that he felt guilty about what had happened with Sylar in the end. About how it had ended. And feeling guilty for the death of his father´s murderer was … not right, was it? It was so totally twisted that Mohinder didn´t know what to do with it. So far he´d delayed that question but somehow driving through that gate and leaving C.E.R.N. behind, had changed that. All the sudden he couldn´t escape that question anymore.

When he reached the crossroad that offered him to either drive to Genf right away or to head for the mountains, he surprised himself by taking the second turn. He would miss his plane, he knew that but he could always take the next one. But before he would climb into a plane that would once again carry him half around the world, he needed to come to terms with himself. To come to a rest. He needed to stop running – or driving for that matter – away and finally think things through.

At last he stopped the car at the curbside and hurried to get out. He needed fresh air. The mountains were beautiful and their noble sight delivered a quietness to Mohinder´s mind that the geneticist needed so desperately. He took a breath and closed his eyes for a while. Yes, that was better. He would not move anymore until his thoughts had stopped racing. And if it would need hours or even days, so be it. But he had to stop running. From himself, from his memories and especially from those feelings of guilt and anger. And he would. He promised that to himself here and now. No more running.

Frank had been right, science shouldn´t be a fight and Mohinder´s days of fighting were over. Once and for all. He sat on the hood of his car and just listened to the sounds of the mountains. No more running, he though. No more running.

...

The door was opened and Adam flinched and swirled around. He expected his boss to stand in the door, a wary frown on his forehead and a notice of dismissal ready to be filled out in his back pocket. But instead it was Gus who stood there, accompanied by the grimly looking detective and the strange guy with the glasses.

„Oh, hey guys." Adam greeted them. „I just got off the phone with your friend in Switzerland. In fact you just missed him. He said the answer is no. Your vic is no Special. He said you´d know what that means."

„Indeed." the guy with the glasses said but he sounded a little disappointed to Adam.

„Oh and that he´ll fly back to India." the lab assistant added quickly. „So you´ll probably not reach him for a while I guess."

The guy with the glasses nodded and then just turned around to leave. The detective followed him. While Adam took Gus aside to ask him what the heck all this was about and what mutations had to do with a police investigation, Lassiter stopped Bennet just outside the lab.

„We need to think about another option, Noah." he told him, speaking quietly so the security guys at the end of the hallway wouldn´t hear them.

„What other option?" Bennet wanted to know.

„That there is someone out there who wants to be like Sylar." Lassiter spoke it out. „Lightly said this Nobody they are chasing is insane and I think he´s right with that. I think we should consider that he is a fan of Sylar. And that he wants to be his heir."

Noah didn´t say a word but Carlton didn´t need him to say anything. He just needed to see his face.

* * *

**Just a word about the little scientific speech Frank gave at the beginning of the chapter. Sorry if it was boring or too long or whatever but the guy is a scientist and they are just talking and talking. But in case you were wondering, those things he talked about were actually true. I didn´t make that up. Those theories really sound like that. I just tried to put it in understandable words … or rather, Frank did.**


	4. Dropping In

**Dropping In**

It was warm and the sun stood high above the ocean. Juliet had eaten her lunch but she was not ready to drive back to the station just yet. Something about the sight of the ocean just didn´t let her go. It was such a nice day. Unbelievable what it could have been if that night two months ago had gone out differently. What this man from Japan had told them about this could-have-been-future was still scaring her. It scared her enough to let her shiver even in this warm sunlight.

It had been here at this cliff. Here it had been decided. If the world should drown in darkness and coldness or if it was allowed to keep existing the way it had always existed. And it had been Sylar, the murderer, who´d taken the decision. And now the world was as warm and shiny as always. The beach was occupied with people who enjoyed their lives just like always. Juliet could see them from where she was. The ocean was blue and peaceful, just like always. And they all could be sure that the next day would be as save as this one. Just like always. Things were still good. The world would keep being here tomorrow.

Juliet hugged herself and shivered again. It was scary to know that all of this was not to be taken for granted. At least not for her. Because she knew what could have been. And that it didn´t happen was because Sylar had sacrificed himself. She had seen it. She had seen him die. But on the other hand … she had seen him fly into that black hole. Did this mean she saw him die? Two months ago she had been convinced about that. But that had been before this last victim.

The sound of a motor made her turn around. The motorcycle had stopped at the curbside and Shawn just hung his helmet on the handle. He waved and walked over to her.

„I got your message." he said and kissed her quickly.

„Thanks for coming." she said, still feeling that cold shiver on her skin.

Of course he felt that tension when she hugged him, much tighter than usual, as if she needed to hold onto something to not to get dragged down by the mighty stream that ripped on her.

„What is it?" he asked her.

„I don´t know." she admitted and that was the truth. She really wasn´t sure what the problem was.

Deep inside she knew that this woman couldn´t have been killed by Sylar. That it of course had to be this Nobody, Mary had told them about. All things were pointing that way and it was the reasonable thing to assume. But just the fact that her brain had been removed … It was like being confronted with a nightmare you´d thought to be forgotten. And then all the sudden it jumped at you from out of a dark corner or grabbed your foot from under the bed in the middle of the night. Juliet shivered again and turned away so Shawn wouldn´t see it.

„I can´t stop thinking …" she tried to explain herself but wasn´t sure how to put it in words.

A tear threatened to slip out of her eye but she suppressed it. It was ridiculous to be scared by something that was long gone.

„You know …" she started over again. „This woman … with her removed brain …"

She had to stop once again and Shawn lay his hands on her shoulders to let her know that she wasn´t alone. At his touch her facade finally broke and she let out a sob. Tears didn´t quiet fall but she was close anyway.

„You think he could have survived it after all?" she asked him, at last speaking out her fears.

„I dunno." was all he said, knowing exactly who she was speaking about.

„You are not … feeling anything?" she looked at him, her eyes full of hope to get at least some sort of an answer to this question, that was nagging on her soul.

„Maybe that black hole is working on another sphere." Shawn said with a shrug. „Or there is some kind of an area with no reception in it."

„That´s not really funny." Juliet replied and lowered her gaze.

It wasn´t meant as an accusation and he knew that. But she really didn´t feel like laughing no matter how good he meant it. She looked out at the ocean again, rubbing her elbows.

„I just know that I don´t know anything." Shawn told her, now serious again. The next second he frowned and cocked his head. „No wait." he said. „That´s not true. I do know something. I know that the woman who was killed had no ability. So it´s out of the question that it was Sylar. Sylar only removed brains when he wanted an ability."

„Did you see that in a vision?" she asked him. „That she had no ability?"

„No." he shrugged. „Gus called me and told me that the test results were negative."

Juliet nodded. But this only confirmed what she had known all along.

„If you ask my opinion." Shawn went on. „I can´t think of any possibilities that it could be Sylar anyway. We saw him die. That is … you saw him die."

„I know." Juliet said, her eyes again fixed on the horizon.

„You … would wish him to still be here?" Shawn asked and she could clearly hear the uncertainty in his voice. When she turned to him he was looking at her carefully.

„I just wish that there would have been another way." she said frankly. „I dunno. A way that would have … given him a chance. I know you´ll probably think I´m crazy but I really think that he would have changed. I mean … I know there are many people that don´t buy that pleading insanity stuff … Carlton for example … but things like that exist, we know that. Yang was insane, wasn´t she? And she was treated respectively. She got therapy."

„Only that she never killed anyone." Shawn recalled. „Not herself."

„Yeah, I know and Sylar has." Juliet nodded. „But still … what he had … this hunger. It was something that came from within him and it sort of drove him to kill, even if he didn´t want to. For me that´s the definition of a mental illness. Isn´t it?"

„I guess so." Shawn mumbled unsure. „But he´s dead. It doesn´t really matter anymore."

„No." Juliet agreed and sighed. „I know. But that also means that there is a very mad and very dangerous man out there. And we don´t know how to find him."

„We will find him." Shawn assured her and for the first time since he´d arrived, she felt better because of what he´d said. Maybe because he was so genuinely convinced about it. It gave her some new strength and that was something she really needed right now.

„I hope so." she said gratefully.

Shawn squeezed her shoulder a little more and nodded at her to underline how much he believed in this. She looked into his eyes and felt better. So much better than she´d felt when she came here. Her cell phone started to ring and she threw him a regretful gaze before answering it.

„O´Hara." Lassiter said on the other end before she could even say hello. „There has been another murder. Get Spencer and Guster and come to Ludlow Avenue on the double. I meet you there."

...

The newest victim was in many ways just like the last one. The main thing that was the same, was of course the removed brain. This time it was a guy, not a woman who´d been killed but otherwise the difference was not that big. He lay in an alley just like the last victim. Only that this time it was the allay of his own appartement house and not a random allay he´d passed on his way home. What was also the same was how they all stood around the body with this gloomy but clueless expression on their faces.

„Dammit." Lassiter growled and that was pretty much all he knew to say.

„At least we can make out a pattern." Mary commented. „He kills his victims in dark allays in the night."

„How is that supposte to help us?" Lassiter asked as if that was the most stupid comment he´d ever heard.

„It tells us that his killings are indeed completely random." Mary explained. „There is no reason for these murders, except for the process of killing itself."

„And the message." Bennet added, looking down on the open skull. Mary just nodded, following his gaze.

„While you guys were busy chasing leads that turned out to be wrong, he was busy finding a new victim." Gus spoke up rather fiercely all the sudden. Everybody turned to him in surprise.

„You were the one who brought us to the lab guy." Lassiter recalled slightly irritated.

„I know." Gus replied. „Because I wanted to help. But obviously this was a waste of time. We should have done some real investigation instead."

„Dude, calm down." Shawn spoke up, not less startled over his friend´s reaction. „What´s the matter with you?"

„What´s the matter with me?" Gus cried. „There´s a psycho out there that kills totally randomly. Everybody could be his next victim and the way it looks, he has a schedule to kill one person every night."

„We don´t know that." Shawn said, chuckling nervously. „This could be a coincidence."

„You think so?" Gus snapped. „I´m not so sure. I´m just glad that my folks are not in town right now. So could we please stop screwing around and start to actually hunt this mad man?" he addressed the whole group again.

Shawn turned to the others as well and saw startled faces everywhere. „You heard him." he said with raised eyebrows.

Lassiter looked at Gus with a surprised but understanding intensity. At last he nodded determined. „All right." he said. „Then let´s roll."

...

Night was settling down over the mountains of the Jura and the street was abandoned. Frank Wieland liked it to drive through the mountains at night. It was peaceful and he always felt as if the sphere was much more open at night, so his mind and fantasy could travel almost everywhere. Especially when he had his music on. Right now it was playing a song from Linkin Park, Let it Go. The sound of it combined with the wide area and the clear sky, made Frank´s imagination sour while he drove the streets.

He didn´t know why but he´d felt like driving around a little. Maybe it was the knowledge that his last tests had shown that he truly was cured and that he couldn´t be any danger to anyone anymore. It was a good feeling. But if he was honest he wouldn´t even need a reason to go out here and drive around. It was one of his hobbies and to do that he didn´t need any reason, except maybe for a lungful of the nights atmosphere.

He took another bend and saw a car parked at the curbside ahead. Frank slowed down and put the music down as well. Maybe someone needed help with his car. When he came closer, he recognized the car. It was the Nissan Mohinder had rented. And then he saw the driver, leaning against the hood.

Frank stopped behind him and got out.

„Doctor." he cried. „What are you doing here? I thought you were gone by now. Is anything wrong? You have problems with the car?"

„No, nothing like that." Mohinder replied surprisingly calm. „I just … needed to get my mind clear." He shrugged.

Now Frank got an idea of what the geneticist was doing here. Of course. He should have guessed something like that. The past events had shaken him as well and he had been in that for only one encounter. Mohinder on the other hand knew all of that for so much longer. He´d known the people involved for so much longer.

„Understand." Frank said therefor and he did. „You know … they say that the mountains have the tendency to clear things much better than other places." he mentioned. „Because they are closer to the sky."

„Who says that?" Mohinder wanted to know.

Frank shrugged. „I don´t know. Some people? I thought that sounded good."

Mohinder chuckled and that was a good sign. It told Frank that the Indian had gotten to some terms with himself already. He counted back in his head for a moment. When the geneticist had left for the airport it had been early afternoon. Now it was almost nine p.m. That meant he was here for at least six hours now. A long time to think things through. But those things were not the usual kind either. So, yes, he could understand it. The need to be alone for a while to just … think.

„Don´t you miss your plane?" he asked the geneticist anyway.

„I´ll take the next one." was all Mohinder said.

Frank nodded again. Of course. Well, that was surely not what he´d expected when he´d set off from C.E.R.N. but it was also a way to satisfy his graving for nights air. Talking to a friend out here to help him figure out a way to live with a shadow that hung over his mind, was something Frank could handle. Especially since this kind of shadow was his speciality.

He was just in the process of opening his mouth to say something, when he spotted something in the distance. It was on the other side of the valley the road was rounding. Somewhere at the slope but it was too dark to be sure. He saw it only in the corner of his eye and it was gone so fast that he couldn´t be quiet sure if he´d even really seen it. But he was sure anyway. Either he´d seen it or he saw flashes dancing before his eyes. And since he hadn´t been drinking, he figured that was not the case.

„Wow." he said slightly confused over that unexpected detection. „You saw that?"

„Saw what?" Mohinder turned around and looked but of course there was nothing left for him to see.

„I´m not sure." Frank admitted still searching the spot on the other side of the valley, where he´d seen it. „It was like a light." he tried to explain. „But no headlights or anything … electrical. It was more like a lightning."

„Maybe it was one." Mohinder shrugged.

„Without clouds?" Frank doubted this.

He looked at the geneticist for one more moment and then back over to the other side of the valley. The spot where he´d seen this flash of light was easy to reach. The street went that way, all around the hillside of this valley. Yes, he was pretty sure that it had been just there.

„I´ll go and check that out." he decided and was back in his car even before Mohinder could wonder what he´d just said.

He drove off and looked in the rearview mirror if the geneticist would follow or just stand there, dumbstruck over his behavior. And if Frank was honest, he wouldn´t be surprised. He didn´t quiet understand it himself. But something about this light he´d seen – and he was sure he´d seen it – seemed so urgent that he couldn´t wait to find out what it had been.

A minute later he had the headlights of Mohinder´s car in his back. So he hadn´t scared him off just yet. Frank smiled. That was a good sign. Most of his other colleagues would have filed it under one of Frank Wieland´s moods and let him go there on his own. Tomorrow he´ll be normal again. But not Mohinder Suresh. He knew that some things looked crazy at first sight but were totally real at closer examination. Crazy things like people with superhuman powers for example.

He reached the point that lay opposite of the place where he´d started and stopped his car. So far there was nothing to be seen around here. He got out of the car and looked around. Following an intuition, he reached back into the car and switched off the headlights, so his eyes would not be irritated because of the extrem difference between this light and the semi darkness that was everywhere else.

Behind him, Mohinder had done the same thing by now and slowly approached him. He was looking around too but mostly he looked irritated at Frank.

„Maybe what you saw was something like a ghost light." he offered an explanation.

Frank shook his head. „Doctor, you might have taken from me that I attract those shadows and black holes." he said. „But something else I still have and that is my experience. I just know that there was something here. Something just cracked open here and it was not a reflection."

„Cracked open?" Mohinder repeated. He wasn´t quiet sure how to understand this statement and if he was honest, Frank started to disturb him. What did he expect to find here? There was nothing here. Everything was just quiet.

He was about to tell Frank that when a shuffling sound made them both turn around. Something had just moved in those bushes at the curbside. Frank threw the geneticist a glance and then carefully moved back to his car. He never let the spot where the sound had come from out of his sight, while he slowly reached into the side pocket of his door. When he came back out he held a flashlight in his hand.

Together they started to approach the suspicious bushes. Frank switched on the flashlight and started to sweep them with its light. So far they couldn´t see anything. But there was another sound of something scratching over the ground (a foot) and then the branches ruffled again.

„Who is there?" Frank asked out loud. „Hello? Ist da jemand? Kommen Sie raus." When no one answered he went back to English again. „Come out and show yourself." he demanded.

Mohinder threw a quick glance at the physicist and wondered if he would have been that brave too if he´d been alone out here. So far the person that was hiding there (if it was a person) didn´t show himself.

„Maybe it´s an animal." Mohinder whispered.

„No way." Frank insisted. „This is not a groundhog and it´s no ibex either. That thing over there is bigger than that."

„Thing?" Mohinder started to feel very uncomfortable by now. What was Frank expecting to find? A werewolf? Or a Swizz version of the Chupacabra?

„Maybe we should just go on and leave the … animal alone." Mohinder suggested.

„It´s not an animal, doctor." Frank insisted still training his eyes on those bushes. „Come out of there." he called out one more time and this time his call was answered.

Something _came_ out of there. It broke through the branches of the bush and lunged forward and right at them. Big eyes stared at them and teeth were snarling, reflecting the light of Frank´s flashlight. The two men skipped back in shock. Mohinder´s foot got stuck on a rock and he fell. A sharp pain shot though his elbow when he collided with the ground. He could feel something rush past him and somewhere Frank was shouting a startled: „Wow!"

Mohinder looked up and after the attacker. It was a man. His clothings were dirty and ripped open on many places and he was bleeding. He was missing a shoe and limped badly. Looking at this Mohinder couldn´t understand how they could have been so scared by this man – except maybe for the fact that he had startled them in an already tensed moment.

But the real shock was still waiting for him. It happened when the man turned around. He´d crossed the street, obviously in a blind try to run away from them. Now he´d reached the end of the street and with that the edge of the slope. The ground fell off very steeply and in this darkness, it must look like a bottomless abyss.

The man tried to stop, to not to run right into it and swirled around. His arms were swaying in his try to find a hold somewhere. But there was none. Mohinder could hear the sound of earth giving way and then the man just slipped. It looked as if the earth just swallowed him. And then he was gone.

For a moment Mohinder didn´t know what to do. He had seen the face of that man only for a second when Frank´s flashlight had rushed over him. The whiteness in his eyes had seemed to glow for a second an then it had been gone. The whole man had been gone. And Mohinder just sat there thunderstruck and waited for the feeling to return to his body.

The sounds that came from ahead, the sounds of the man sliding and falling down the hillside, finally brought him back around and into the real world. Next to him Frank had managed it to get back to his feet by now.

„Mein Gott." he breathed. „Was that …? That was …"

„Sylar." Mohinder finished the sentence. He had recognized him as well. Of course. But he´d needed to hear Frank´s reaction first, to truly accept that what he´d seen was not a hallucination.

He struggled to his feet and hurried over the street and looked down into the valley. Frank appeared next to him and shone his flashlight down. The slope showed a trace of disturbed earth and ripped out plants. The way Sylar had taken on his fall down there.

„How is it possible that he´s here?" Frank asked out of breath.

„I told you he´s not a normal person." Mohinder heard himself say.

He didn´t look at Frank. Even though he couldn´t see anything in that darkness down there, he just couldn´t take his eyes off it. Somewhere down there Sylar had landed. The monster had slipped down in the dark once again, maybe to heal down there and to return when it got hungry. If he wouldn´t know that it was impossible, if he hadn´t heard him slide all the way down, he would expect Sylar to lure in the dark only a few feet away, waiting for them to turn around so he could attack.

Mohinder shook his head. How could he be here? That was impossible.

„Mohinder?" Frank addressed him.

The geneticist wet his lips and tried to focus. He needed to do something. Even though he wished that all of this was just a nightmare and that he would wake up later on, finding that he´d only fallen asleep on the hood of his rental, he knew very well that he was fully awake. And that meant that this situation had to be handled somehow. Sylar had to be handled.

„How deep is this valley?" he asked Frank.

„Dunno." the Swizz answered. „Somewhat about a hundred meters? But it´s so steep, we can´t climb down there. Not in the dark. I call a rescue team. They can send a helicopter."

„We can´t call anyone." Mohinder objected. „We don´t know in what condition he is. If we send people after him who have no idea what he is, he will most probably kill them."

„Are you serious?"

„I am serious." Mohinder shot. „You never saw what he can do."

Frank stared at him for a moment. „All right." he said at last. „But … we can´t just leave him down there."

„No." Mohinder agreed, looking into the pit grimly.

„So?" Frank asked but he already seemed to guess it.

„I can get down there." Mohinder decided. „Do you have a rope?"

Frank threw him a reproving glance but went back to his car and got the rope anyway. Mohinder wound it around his waist and made sure that Frank had the other end.

„You ever did something like that before?" the physicist asked him while handing him his flashlight.

„Not exactly." Mohinder admitted. „Don´t worry. The rope is not for me."

„Be careful." Frank advised him. „The mountains can be like the desert. When you get lost you stay lost."

„I´ll keep that in mind." Mohinder replied. „Don´t hold the rope too tightly. I might be forced to jump a few times and I don´t want to drag you down with me."

Frank nodded and Mohinder started to climb down the slope. It wasn´t the easiest thing to do, especially to find some hold for his feet. He really had to jump a few times in order to avoid a fall just like Sylar´s and he was glad that he didn´t feel any resistance at the rope when this happened (or that he didn´t hear any cries from above for that matter). A few times the ground gave in beneath his feet and he was practically surfing down the slope.

Following Sylar´s path was easy, since he´d broken though a lot of vegetation on his way down. Mohinder expected him to lie unconscious at the end of this path but when he finally reached the bottom of this valley, there was nothing. Sylar must have healed by now and stood up. But that only meant that he had to be extra careful.

Mohinder looked around, shining with the flashlight, but he couldn´t spot him. There were too many possibilities for Sylar to hide. Too many dark corners. Mohinder wound the rope of himself, never leaving his surroundings out of his eyes, his ears always strained in case Sylar should try to sneak up on him.

„Mohinder!" Frank called him from above and the geneticist jumped.

He looked around, expecting to see Sylar lunging for him from behind, but there was no one. He looked up at Frank and saw his silhouette against the sky. The physicist was pointing into a certain direction.

When Mohinder turned to look, he could already hear the sounds of slipping rocks again. His flashlight found the foot of the other side of this thin valley. It was only a few dozen feet ahead. The light illuminated a cloud of dust. Some earth had just slipped down from farther up. Mohinder shone the light that way … and there he was. Sylar. He was in the process of climbing up the slope again. When the light brushed him, he swirled around like a jailbreaker that suddenly found himself in the middle of the spot light. His expression was respectively that of a hunted man.

Mohinder just couldn´t believe it.

Sylar turned back around and kept climbing, now increasing his speed frantically. It almost looked as if he was scared.

„Sylar!" Mohinder called and went over to the foot of this hillside. What the hell was he doing?

„Watch out!" Frank shouted from above and then Mohinder saw Sylar´s foot loosing its grip on the ground. A second later the killer was sliding down the slope.

Mohinder skipped back to avoid to be run down by the loose rocks and dirt that accompanied the falling man. After the avalanche had stopped rolling, Sylar lay on the ground. His eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling quickly. When Mohinder´s flashlight fell on him again, he jumped up and skipped back.

Like a haunted animal, it shot through Mohinder´s head.

„My god." he breathed at the sight of Sylar crouching before him.

It was still unbelievable that it was really him. It really was Sylar. Alive. But this … thing, barely looked like Sylar. His gaze was suspicious and his eyes so wary as if he expected to get shot any second.

„Can you hear me?" Mohinder asked. „Can you understand what I say?"

Sylar only skipped back and tried to back up the slope again. He slipped and slid back down, coming to a rest in a very pitiful pose. His face showed the desperation he felt about his inability to get away. When Mohinder approached him, he flinched.

„No, no." the scientist held out his hand to calm him down. „Don´t worry. I´m not your enemy."

Sylar halted. Mohinder could still not believe what was happening here.

„Do you know who I am?" he asked the killer before him. The look he got from Sylar was confused. „Do you understand what I say?" the scientist kept asking.

Sylar frowned but nodded slowly. At least something.

Mohinder stood there, totally clueless for a moment. He looked around and up to Frank for mental support. But the physicist was only a silhouette and by now it was hard to even recognize that against the dark sky. Mohinder sighed. He´d come down here to find Sylar and he had found him. Just not quiet the way he´d expected. What the hell was he supposte to do now?

Sylar was still eying him with the wary eyes of a trapped animal. But at least he didn´t try to run away anymore and he seemed to have calmed down a little. Trusting his instincts Mohinder lowered the shine of the flashlight and made a half step towards Sylar. The killer looked after the light for a moment and then up at Mohinder. He seemed uncertain what to expect. Mohinder held out his hand.

„I´m Mohinder." he told Sylar. „Remember? I will to help you."

Sylar frowned as if he wasn´t sure what those words meant and looked at the offered hand with uncertainty. When he looked into the scientist´s eyes again, his mistrust decreased though. At least a little. Now he looked interested and curious. Mohinder nodded at him reassuringly. This situation was so weird he didn´t even know how to compute. By now he was acting on pure instinct. If he had tried to think this whole thing through, he probably wouldn´t have done anything, overcharged with the lack of logic in all of this.

Sylar on the other hand, didn´t have that problem. He didn´t look as if logical thinking was an issue for him right now. At last he seemed to overcome his fear and he reached out his own hand and allowed Mohinder to help him up.

...

„All right." Lassiter said, after he´d closed the door of the conference room.

There were five people in the room who were supposte to know what there really was to know about this case and other than that, no one else needed to be let in. Literally and figuratively.

„Let´s go over this from the beginning." the head detective demanded.

„We know the woman who was killed had no ability." Juliet summarized. „So it definitely wasn´t Sylar or anyone with Sylar´s ability of stealing powers, who killed her."

„What means that it was truly a copycat killer." Bennet finally admitted to that theory.

„Right." Lassiter said and he would have been lying if he´d denied that he was relieved to hear him think in his direction. „Your Nobody seems to be one of these crazy serial killer fans." he addressed Mary Lightly and shook his head. „Dammit. I hate those people."

„So he might be looking for Sylar with those killings." Mary agreed. „Maybe imitating Sylar´s MO is his way of writing fanmail to him."

For a moment no one said a word. Everybody was just thinking this last comment through, each of them in their own way. It was Bennet who finally broke that silence again.

„What do you think he´ll do when he learns that Sylar´s dead?" he asked them all.

The following lack of answers was striking. Not even the always talking fake psychic seemed to be in a hurry to come up with a possibility of what would happen in that case. Probably a wise decision.


	5. Out Of Darkness

**Out Of Darkness **

The patient sat on the stretcher while the old doctor looked him over. He was accepting the treatment willingly enough, but his expression was still that of a simple minded person. His eyes watched the doctor very carefully and almost as if he tried to figure out if that man in the white coat was a friend or a foe. Still Mohinder couldn´t deny that he saw the intelligence in his eyes, no matter how quiet and regressed he seemed.

Sylar hadn´t spoken since they´d brought him back to C.E.R.N. but that didn´t mean that he couldn´t speak. Maybe he was just holding back so they would think him harmless and stop watching him.

Mohinder shook his head to stop himself. That was ridiculous. He´d seen how he´d reacted when they´d found him. Sylar was not pretending. Not this time. Whatever had happened to him had really left him … well … something. Mohinder didn´t even know a word for the killer´s condition.

„How is that possible?" Frank asked next to him. The physicist was looking through the door at the doctor and Sylar just like Mohinder. He shook his head. „He should be dead." was all he knew to say.

„I told you he´s not a normal human." Mohinder replied. „It was probably your ability that helped him survive."

He looked at the treatment that went on in the other room. The doctor wouldn´t find any wound to take care of. At least no wounds that he would be an expert in. Mohinder sighed.

„What a shame that you don´t have psychologists here." he said.

„It´s not a psychologist he needs." Frank replied. „He needs a miracle."

Mohinder nodded in agreement. It was unbelievable. Sometimes he really wondered. How did all these things happen to them all the time? And why? It was as if a greater force was working on them. But thinking something like that was ridiculous of course and that alone made the question itself useless. There were no answers anyway.

The doctor had finished his examination of Sylar and injected the killer with a light sedativa. After a while Sylar was lying down and slept.

...

It was six a.m. when a young man entered the police station. He´d just arrived with a plane and had made his way here on the double. The day before there had been another murder, he had heard that in the news while driving here with a taxi. The driver had told him what a bad time he´d picked to visit Santa Barbara and he had agreed with him. This had been pure politeness of course. He had a reason to be here right now and those murders were that exact reason.

People were scared to go out of their houses at night because of that, the authorities had advised them to lock their doors and windows and to never be on the road alone at night. And all this because of just one man. This had to end. He had to end it.

Now he looked around to find the detectives he´d met a few months ago. Lassiter or O´Hara. The news had mentioned that they would be the ones investigating this case. But he hadn´t even needed the news to know that. Ever since he´d learned that they knew Sylar and what he could do, he knew that they would be the ones investigating everything that had to do with him. They and Shawn Spencer of course. The psychic that wasn´t really a psychic.

The young man headed for the desk sergent to ask for Lassiter or O´Hara. But before he actually reached the young officer, he spotted a familiar face. But it was neither of the two detectives.

„Noah?" he called him.

The older man looked up from the paper he´d just been reading. His face was surprised when he saw this unexpected visitor.

„Peter." he cried and looked around as if he expected some more old friends to be hiding nearby.

„I shouldn´t be surprised to see you here." Peter said, walking over to him.

He decided to dismiss the questions about how the Company man had managed it to get involved in the investigation though. It wasn´t really worth a question anyway.

„All right." he said instead. „Tell me."

„Tell you what?" Noah asked confused.

„What was not in the news." Peter said with rolling eyes. „About Sylar. And about what you plan to stop him."

The question had been meant as a confrontation as well as a demand to be let in on the case. But Noah´s reaction was not quiet what he´d expected. He just looked at him in a way Peter couldn´t define.

„Ah, yeah, right." he mumbled. „You don´t know."

„Don´t know what?" Peter asked but only got another question for an answer.

„Why did you come here?" Noah wanted to know.

„Are you kidding?" Peter cried, now slowly losing his patience. „I saw the news. I made a promise once. That I would help Sylar if I could. I delayed that promise long enough. Too long obviously. And don´t give me your speech again. I know what he did was a crime. A terrible crime. But there has to be a way to help him. To stop him."

„That´s not what I was about to say, Peter." Noah said calmly.

His tone that irritated Peter. It didn´t sound like the Noah he used to know. It was not the usual tone that said: I know better than you what is the right thing to do. This tone sounded somehow … gentle.

„It´s not Sylar." he now told him. „He didn´t kill those people."

Peter frowned and shook his head in confusion. „I thought the brain was missing."

„It was."

„Then …"

„It was still not Sylar." Noah insisted.

„How do you know that?" Peter asked him, now really confused.

Noah looked at him a long time before he finally told him: „Because Sylar´s dead, Peter."

The first reaction that came to Peter was a humorless chuckle. „What are you talking about?" he asked. „Sylar can´t die."

„But he did." Noah insisted. „I saw it with my own eyes."

„But …" Peter shook his head irritated. „The healing …"

„Didn´t protect him from a black hole." Noah talked right over him, his face as blank as always.

„What?" By now Peter was close to believe that Noah tried to perform a bad prank on him.

„It´s a long story." the Company man said. „Many things have happened here since you left. There was an event not too long ago. It would be too complicated to tell you everything in detail but the short version is … that a black hole threatened …" Noah shook his head for a moment. „Maybe the whole world." he finished the sentence. „And Sylar closed it from the inside."

Peter looked ahead, past Noah and shook his head. That was impossible. Everything he knew about Sylar told him that this guy could not be dead. Never. If there was one person in the whole world he had never expected to suddenly be dead, it was Sylar. But now Noah told him that he indeed was dead. And just to hear this news in a way like that … It had happened so long ago already and he hadn´t even known.

Was this really happening? Or was he still on the plane and sleeping in his seat, dreaming that Noah was telling him these impossible things?

„I´m sorry." he heard Noah say next to him.

The Company man looked at him uncertain, as if he tried to ask him, if they were still friends after he´d told him these bad news. Peter needed a moment to realize how grim he must have looked just now. It was true, he was shocked to hear about Sylar´s death. But he was blaming himself more than he could ever blame Noah. He´d only delivered the message. But Peter had been the one who had once made a promise and had never kept it.

Not that he thought he could have done anything different. No one could have done anything different. But that didn´t help that feeling. He´d let Sylar down. Maybe not intentionally but he had. And now he was dead.

Noah´s gaze reminded him on something else though. There had been murders in this city, murders that had been committed the same way like Sylar had always done it. But Sylar was dead according to Noah. Still the Company man was working the case. He must have a good reason for that.

„If it wasn´t Sylar, who else killed those people?" Peter wanted to know.

Noah looked at him for one more minute. When he saw that Peter was indeed serious, that he wanted to close the subject about Sylar, he nodded subtly and then turned around, indicating for Peter to follow him.

„The FBI knows him under the name Nobody." he started to tell him about the case.

Peter was listening closely. What he heard was almost as unbelievable as the news about Sylar´s death. More than unbelievable. It was disturbing. Noah was halfway done with the story, when the voice of head detective Carlton Lassiter echoed through the station.

„Noah." he called him and when he saw Peter standing next to him, he halted for a moment. „What the hell are _you_ doing here?" he asked him.

„I heard the news." Peter repeated. „I came here to help."

Lassiter regarded him with an arced eyebrow for a moment, but then he seemed to dismiss the whole subject. Instead he turned to Noah and told him: „We have a new victim." his face was gloomy when he added: „Nobody sent a new message."

...

Frank Wieland walked along the corridor of the guest house and threw another glance on his wristwatch. It was three p.m. and he hadn´t seen Mohinder since yesterday night. But no matter how exhausting this previous night had been, he somehow had the feeling that the geneticist had barely slept, if he had even slept at all. And could he blame him? Even he had had his problems finding rest after the discovery that the man he´d seen flying into a black hole with his own eyes, was alive and well (okay maybe not well but alive nevertheless).

When he´d woken up this morning he´d believed, that he´d only dreamt it all. But it hadn´t been a dream. The man in their hospital was really there and he was very much alive. And he was the reason why Frank was now heading for Mohinder´s guest room.

When he reached the door, he listened for a moment. But when he didn´t hear anything he knocked carefully.

„Yes?" the voice of the Indian geneticist called from the other side.

Frank stepped in and found Mohinder sitting on his laptop, looking at the door with big expecting eyes. He might have expected someone else to come in.

„It´s just me." Frank told him and Mohinder seemed quiet relieved about this fact. He sank back into his chair with a sigh.

„What are you doing?" Frank asked with a glance at the computer.

„I´m doing research on amnesia." Mohinder told him.

Frank frowned. Ever since the doctor had told them about his diagnosis, he had been thinking about that as well. He´d heard about cases like that but he´d never known anyone who´d lost all his memories.

„You know there are real doctors who can take care of Sylar´s condition." he mentioned. „We can find an expert for amnesia patients to take over his case."

„That wasn´t the reason." Mohinder shook his head.

Frank needed to throw him several asking glances before he brought himself to explain a little more.

„I was wondering if it is possible to restore only a part of the memory." he said reluctantly.

Frank shook his head in confusion. „Why that?" he asked.

„This man we´re talking about is a murderer." Mohinder recalled. „But he was Gabriel Gray once in his life. Before he learned that he had all these powers he was just a normal watchmaker who´d never hurt a soul his entire life. Someone who even tried to take his own life out of shame because he killed somebody."

Slowly Frank began to understand where the geneticist wanted to go with that.

„And you think you can make him become that person again." he spoke it out. „Wipe out the past to change him back to how he was before."

„This might be a one in a million chance to do that. To restrain the monster that he is without doing any harm to him."

„How do you plan to do that?" Frank wanted to know.

At this question the geneticist sighed and looked at the computer screen rather helpless. „I don´t know." he admitted. „That´s what I try to find out."

„It could take years to do so." Frank mentioned.

„That would be worth it." was all Mohinder would reply.

That was astounding. „So you´re practically ready to dedicate your life to this task to change the whole person that he is into someone else." Frank summarized what he´d just heard.

„Not into someone else." Mohinder argued. „Into his original self. The person he was born as."

„Still it could take years, you know that." Frank repeated to make sure the Indian man had really gotten this part.

„A small sacrifice, compared to the gains this could mean." Mohinder replied stubbornly.

Frank could only chuckle and shake his head. That was surely not what he´d expected.

„Besides the fact that I don´t really believe that something like this is possible …" he told Mohinder. „But this decision is remarkable. Honestly, I really mean that. But why? Why would you do that?"

„Because I have a depth to repay." was the serious answer.

Frank furrowed his brow. „He saved us all when he flew into that black hole but …" he said but Mohinder talked right over him.

„That´s not what I mean." he said. „It´s way more complicated than that."

Frank watched the geneticist closely to find out what he meant with that. But this time he didn´t need to probe. This time Mohinder kept talking all on his own.

„Sylar´s and my story goes back much longer." he told him. „I did things that I shouldn´t have done … or should have done different. I made mistakes that resulted in peoples deaths sometimes. In some way I´m at least halfway responsible for what he became. For the people he killed."

„You can´t be serious with that." Frank exclaimed.

„I´m afraid I am. If I had a chance to do things again I would do many things differently." a little quieter and much more gloomy he added: „Maybe I would kill him before he had a chance to turn off the IV."

Frank raised his brows. „What?" He must have missed a part in Mohinder´s speech. What was he talking about?

„Never mind." Mohinder said, dismissing the subject and confused Frank even more with that. He sat there in silent contemplation for a moment. „Sylar and I are connected no matter how often I turn it." he spoke up at last. By now it was as if he was talking to himself rather than with Frank. „If I want it or not. All these things that have happened … Even the fact that we found him here. Here from all the places in the world. He entered the black hole in Santa Barbara. And he turns up here? Right now? It could have been everywhere. But it happens to be the place where I´m currently working."

„It could be because of the LHC." Frank offered an explanation. „Or because of me."

Mohinder looked at him somehow startled.

„Or …" Frank went on, realizing that his argument hadn´t been called for in this line of thoughts. „Maybe he was really looking for you on some level." he admitted the possibility that Mohinder obviously believed to be the reason for all of this. And who knew, he thought to himself. There was no proof that stood against this after all.

„Maybe he knew that you would help him." he said. „Anyway, he is quiet lucky that he found us. Or we found him." he hesitated and then shook his head. „Wow, this is some complicated stuff."

Mohinder chuckled. „You have no idea." he said. „But fact is, I have a depth to repay and this might be my only chance to really do that."

„Well if you really want to make amends for all of that, you should figure out a way to start." Frank said and finally got a chance to deliver the message he´d come for all along. „He´s awake."

...

The conference room had gained a new inhabitant. Shawn had claimed that he had seen in a vision that Peter was in town but of course he had been totally startled when he´d suddenly seen him at the crime scene this morning. No wonder. After seeing what Nobody had pulled off last night, everything might have startled him.

This time the dude had really beaten his own score. Hanging the victim from a building so everybody could see him (and his open head) was already creepy enough. But that banner he´d hung there as well was the bloody and totally freakish icy on the cake. In big red letters that looked like they were written with nothing else but blood, he´d written: Happy Birthday, Sylar.

Man, if that wasn´t sick. Lassiter wasn´t the only one who looked ready to punch the living crap out of the guy, as soon as they found him.

„This guy killed four people in my city." he stated as if that would explain everything. „We have to quit the usual tactics and think about a real plan. One that´ll finally bring this bastard down."

„You think this guy could have an ability?" Peter asked into the silent room. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his brows as furrowed as Lassiter´s.

„We´re not sure about that." Bennet answered him.

He didn´t look up at Peter though. Something about his posture told Shawn that the Company man was as clueless as he was on how to go on. What a pity, he thought. If there had been anyone he would have expected to come up with a new plan, it would have been that guy. He was the one with the experience in catching people with abilities after all.

„If Nobody had an ability similar to Sylar´s he would have removed the brains of his victims much earlier in his career." the thin voice of Mary Lightly spoke up from the door. He had entered the room as silent as a ghost. Everybody turned around to him startled.

„But he didn´t." Mary just went on. „As far as we know, this was the first time that he ever did something like this."

„Who are _you_?" Peter asked him confused.

„Mary Lightly. FBI profiler." Mary introduced himself and reached out his limp hand for Peter.

The young orderly from New York looked at him irritated but somehow brought himself to shake that hand. He touched it carefully though as if afraid he would crush it if he used too much pressure and released it after a few seconds. Mary didn´t seem to notice his irritation at all.

„You know about people with abilities?" Peter managed it to ask, after he´d thrown a confused look around.

„I was after Sylar for over three years." Mary told him. „I also know about you. Mr. Peter Petrelli from New York. Capable of copying abilities. Quiet similar to Sylar." He hesitated and rolled his eyes in a way as if to say: Well … „Without the killing stuff." he said out loud.

Peter searched in the faces of his companions for help and finally found it in Shawn and Gus.

„He has that effect on everybody." the fake psychic told him. „Don´t worry."

„Could we come back to the point please?" Lassiter demanded. „How do we catch this sick Sylar imitation that runs loose in my city?"

„And how do we do that without getting killed, since he has superhuman powers?" Gus added.

„We don´t know if he has." Shawn recalled once more.

„But he could have." Gus insisted.

„I´m pretty sure, that he has." Mary agreed, his eyes on the ground. Gus pointed at him, asking Shawn with his eyes: See?

„Maybe I have an idea." Bennet spoke up at last and looked around at them all. „This man is looking for Sylar." he recalled. „Then maybe Sylar should stop him."

„Sylar is dead." Lassiter recalled of his own.

„I know." Bennet replied. „But_ he_ doesn´t."

There was a moment of silence following his words. Everybody was letting this point of view sinking in.

„Maybe he doesn´t know how he looks like." Peter broke the silence.

„Of course he doesn´t know." Gus agreed. „How should he? As far as we know they never met."

„And we never published any photos of Sylar during our investigation." Mary added. „There is one of him regarding the death of his mother but that was published under his real name. Gabriel Gray. So no. Nobody should be unaware of Sylar´s face."

Lassiter nodded in agreement. His eyes were sparkling with new energy. „That means we can set a trap." he found. „With a double."

„Something to lure him out." Bennet agreed. „In an area that we can control easily."

„How do we get him to go there?" Lassiter mumbled thoughtfully.

„We could write an announce in the newspaper." Shawn blurred out excited. „In code."

„This is not Red Dragon, Shawn." Gus objected. „Do you have any idea how long that would take until he would find that announce?"

„But we _can_ make an announcement." Juliet supported the idea. „Not in the paper though. Something bigger and more obvious. Something that is pompose enough for Nobody to buy it. Something Sylar would do to let someone know he wants to meet him."

„What would that be?" Lassiter asked, looking at the people who knew Sylar longer than he did.

It was Peter who spoke up first, almost without hesitation.

„I think I have an idea." he announced.

...

The man that once had been Sylar was standing at the window. He was looking out, quiet, not moving as if he was deeply sunken in his own thoughts. Or maybe lost in his own thoughts would fit that image better. No matter how he put it, just the way he stood there in silence made him look somehow unreal to Mohinder.

When the geneticist entered the room, he felt like walking in a dream. He wasn´t sure what kind of a dream it was but it was totally unreal. He was about to talk to _Sylar_ but in some way that wasn´t even true. He was about to talk to this man that had lost his memories and that should, if possible, remember to be another man. The man he´d been before Sylar.

For a moment Mohinder just stared at this man´s back and something inside of him wanted to just turn around and leave before he got himself into something he couldn´t handle. He knew it would be a tricky thing to convince this man that he was Gabriel Gray. Especially since Mohinder knew he would have to be extra careful about what to tell him … and how. Sylar would immediately know when he tried to tell him a lie. He had the ability of detecting lies.

Maybe it had been a bad idea after all to come here and try what he intended to try, Mohinder mused. How was he supposte to tell Sylar all these lies (and it would be lies, no denying about that) without him noticing it? Thinking of this, he found that there was only one way of lying to a lie-detector. By not telling any lies. No real ones at least.

After another moment of hesitating, he finally made himself open his mouth and speak.

„Gabriel?" he addressed the man at the window. It felt strange to use that name.

The doctor had told him that Sylar had spoken to him when he woke up so his mind seemed to be working fine – if one ignored the fact that he couldn´t remember anything. When Sylar now turned around and looked at him, his face was placid. But one look into his eyes told Mohinder, that it was probably true what the doctor had said. Sylar was really just fine, capable of rational thinking and analyzing his situation. What seemed to be exactly what he was doing right now.

Does he know already, Mohinder wondered.

„Do you know who I am?" he asked Sylar carefully.

The other man lowered his gaze for a moment, finally pausing in his study of the scientist´s face.

„Your name is Mohinder." he answered the question as if he recalled something rote memorized. „You found me."

„That´s right." Mohinder affirmed uncertain.

„Are you … a friend of mine?" Sylar asked him.

Now that was the first thing he had to find a way of explaining. Mohinder had the feeling that there were a lot more to come.

„We know each other for a long time now." he said vaguely, hoping that would be enough for the killer.

„Then you know who I am." Sylar asked him hopefully.

So far so good, Mohinder thought. That was the best opening he could have hoped for. Now it was up to him.

„You are Gabriel Gray." he started to tell him. Not a lie. „You are from New York." Also the truth. „You used to work as a watchmaker in Queens."

„A watchmaker." Sylar repeated surprised.

Mohinder halted, watching Sylar´s reaction carefully. The killer seemed to think this information over for a moment. Then he chuckled and shook his head.

„That would explain, why it kind of drives me crazy that this thing runs two minutes fast." he said and looked up at something behind Mohinder.

The geneticist turned around and spotted the clock that hung over the door. For a moment he was just startled.

„Yes …" he finally brought out. „You always had a gift to hear that."

When he faced Sylar again, his face was neutral. Waiting. Mohinder was not sure how he should go on. But go on he must.

„What do you remember?" he asked him.

„I already told the doctor." Sylar said. „It´s like a black hole."

Mohinder gasped in silence at this, but fortunately Sylar didn´t seem to notice. He just went on talking.

„Every time I try to remember I get thrown back into the dark." he explained his first statement.

The geneticist relaxed. So that´s what he meant. For a moment he´d thought …

„As if a part of me doesn´t want to remember." Sylar kept telling him and looked at him helplessly. „Is that possible?" he asked.

„When a traumatic event happens, the human mind might be too afraid to remember it." Mohinder immediately explained, grateful that he´d read so much about amnesia over the last hours. „Things like that happen."

„Traumatic?" Sylar repeated. In this moment he seemed very lost to Mohinder. „What happened to me?" he asked him, stepping a little closer in his search for an answer.

„I don´t know." Mohinder said and that was the truth. He really didn´t know what had happened to him. „But right now it is more important that you remember yourself." he stated and that was also the truth. „Everything else can come later. Or maybe never, that depends on your mind. For some people who experienced an amnesia like yours, it was even better not to remember what had caused it."

Sylar lowered his gaze for a moment, thinking this over. „Are you a doctor?" he then asked.

„I´m a geneticist." Mohinder answered with a half nod.

„You think you can help me?" Sylar asked, sounding very desperate.

Once again Mohinder felt that he might be getting himself into something that was too big for him. But he´d started it and now there was no going back anymore.

„I´ll do my best to help you remember Gabriel Gray." he said, carefully choosing his words.

Sylar looked at him with these lost eyes of his, that were so different from anything Mohinder was used to see from this killer.

„Last night I had a dream." he told Mohinder. „There were people. So many of them. They were in the dark, I couldn´t see their faces. They were shouting at me but I couldn´t understand them. I was afraid. I felt that they were not friendly. That they hated me."

Mohinder gulped. And yet another thing he needed to be careful about. No matter what, he mustn´t let the memory of Sylar´s murders break through. He mustn´t even allow him to suspect anything in this regard.

„Don´t worry." he said therefore. „Confusing dreams are absolutely normal in your condition. It´ll go away."

He raised his hand and padded Sylar´s shoulder in a reassuring way, totally unselfconsciously. Sylar on the other hand was very aware of the gesture. He looked down on himself, at the spot where Mohinder´s hand had touched his arm just a moment ago. There was a thoughtful frown on his forehead.

„What is it?" Mohinder asked, feeling nervous. Had he made a mistake after all?

„That felt … familiar." Sylar told him, looking at him with this asking face of his.

Mohinder looked back at him startled. That was something he hadn´t expected.

„Yeah, that … is possible." he managed to bring out.

„How did we meet?" Sylar asked him all the sudden. „Would you tell me? I´d like to remember."

Again Mohinder felt the urge to just turn around and run before it was too late. But of course he didn´t. He couldn´t. Doing that would ruin every chance he had to make this man Gabriel Gray again.

„That´s a long story." he said therefore. „Maybe it´s better we start with something simple."

„Like?"

„I´ll tell you some things about your life and we just see and hope that you remember."

Sylar seemed disappointed but he nodded nevertheless. „Okay." he said modestly.

Mohinder nodded too, inwardly exhaling with relief. That would be a hard piece of work. But he´d started it and he would go through with it. He just had to. When he led the way over to the table so they could sit down, Sylar followed in silence.


	6. Confrontation

**Confrontation**

The market square was at his most busy time of the week. People were running around and talking over each other, all of them in a hurry to get the better offers before someone else did. Not less of them had a lot of stress in their tries to do so.

„I told you I need the green apples." a woman cried at her husband who just refused to understand her.

„You said apples. You didn´t say green apples. And what difference does the colour make anyway?"

„Tina, leave the dog alone." a mother shouted. „You have no idea if he´s clean."

„Allison, look." a young girl called for her friend. „That´s the fruit my teacher told us about. He sais they stink awful but they are supposte to taste quiet good."

„He made that up." the other girl replied. „Something can´t stink and taste good the same time."

„I believe him."

„Because you crush on him."

„I don´t."

„Benny, hold that bag for me."

„How much do we need, for gods sake? You already have two bags."

„Just one more."

„That price is a joke, right? That´s pure robbery."

„Danny, where are you again? I´m talking to you."

„Is this even fresh? It looks wasted."

„Can´t you look where you are going? I have kids with me."

„Why do I have the feeling that you only came here to have a look at the latest crime scene, Doris?" an elderly woman mentioned.

„Because you always think the worst of people." her colleague answered. „I only come here for the salad. I´m here every Thursday, isn´t that right Ralph?"

„Yes, it is, Ma´am." the salesman replied. „She´s my best customer."

„I could as well work this stand." Doris stated. „Most of your wasted salads were sorted out by me. This one for instance."

The vegetable salesman took the bad salad with an embarrassed face and let it vanish under his stand in silence. Doris ignored him and kept looking through the rest of the vegetables, when all the sudden an excited mumbling started amongst the people. Everybody looked around to find out what had caused it. But looking around wasn´t doing the trick. Looking up was.

There was a banner hanging from the building on the other side of the market. Doris was sure it hadn´t been there only a minute ago, but now it was hard to overlook it. It read in big red letters: „Thank you so much for the present. Sylar." A little smaller beneath it stood: „P.S. I´d like to meet this generous giver."

Doris was sure she´d seen someone moving on the top of the building from which this strange banner hung but the figure was gone as soon as she´d spotted it. Had this been done by one man only? People were pointing and talking and only a short time after the whole thing had started, a reporter and a camera man hurried past Doris to get to a better position. The police arrived about ten minutes later, securing the place and chasing everybody away that was standing too close to the building.

The only comment, the reporters got from the leading investigator was a rough and unnerved: „No comment, dammit!"

...

It was going straight to midnight. The marketplace, which had been crowded with people this afternoon when Peter had hung the banner up on that building, was now deserted and quiet like a cemetery. No wonder. The police had closed it off. The yellow crime scene tape that surrounded the square was flapping in the wind. It seemed to be the only sound in this place, that was supposte to be part of an ongoing investigation.

Peter was standing in the middle of the market, looking around as if waiting for someone to arrive and pick him up. And of course he was waiting. He waited for Nobody. So far he hadn´t shown up. But something in Peter told him that this would change after midnight. As if this time was some sort of magical border that had to be crossed before this man could finally show up.

He threw a glance behind himself at the building from which he´d hung the banner. The banner was gone by now. The police had taken it down – not before they were sure the reporters had gotten a good picture of it though. The whole building was a crime scene now. At least that´s what the news had said. They had broadcasted the picture of the banner on that building the whole day and with that they´d unwillingly supported their plan to let Nobody know about Sylar´s invitation to meet him. Here and now.

People had gathered around the scene the whole day as well. Rubberneckers, but Bennet and Lassiter had made sure that cameras had caught them all on tape to run their faces through the FBI´s database, just in case Nobody should have been amongst them. Or maybe one of his guys. He was known to let others do the dirty work for him after all. Only that this choice of words didn´t quiet fit in this case. The most dirty work he was always doing himself. The killings. That´s at least what this strange man Mary Lightly had told them.

Peter wasn´t sure about anything in this regard. He was still not completely sure about how he had gotten into this. Not just this slightly insane plan to act as Sylar to lure this madman out and into custody. But the whole situation he´d found himself in after getting here. He´d planned on finding and helping Sylar. Instead he´d learned that Sylar was dead and now he was trying to pretend that he was Sylar to take someone into custody that tried to be like Sylar. What a sick joke of fate was that?

Peter sighed and searched the other side of the square. A shop window. Baby clothings. Usually. Tonight it was a sniper nest, habiting the head detective and his team. Peter looked up at the top of the building and at the camera that was installed there. He couldn´t see it in the dark but he knew it was there. As well as on the other side of the place to make sure they would get all angles. What an amount of equipment. They really were desperate to get that guy. Peter had to give them that. They really were serious. He didn´t know if the FBI came up with something as big as this all the time or if it was just when they were hunting possibly superhuman powered serial killers.

Again he wondered if this man really had an ability. The stories Mary Lightly had told them were indicating something but they were no proof. Everything was possible. As far as Peter was concerned the chances were fifty fifty. He would have to wait and see. But no matter if the guy had an ability or not. He was a murderer and he had to be stopped. And if it was just to keep him from copying Sylar.

A squeaking sound came up and Peter looked ahead searching the source. He spotted it. A beggar came strolling up the street, shoving a shopping cart. Peter exhaled.

„False alarm." he spoke quietly into the microphone on his chest, to let the others know that they could relax again.

He watched the beggar how he shoved his cart over the street. There was something in the cart, but not the usual bunch of things those people usually shoved through the streets. This one had something in his cart that looked like a cargo box, covered with a cloth. Peter frowned. Something was weird about this beggar. Not just his cart. The guy was not just passing either. He was heading for the square and … him.

Peter tensed. Could this be? Could this be Nobody? He took a hesitant step forwards.

_„Don´t, Peter."_ Bennet´s voice came over radio into his ear. _„Let him come to you. If it is him, he´ll address you."_

Peter made himself stand still and waited. It was the hardest thing in the world. This guy (beggar?) took his time to cross the square. The closer he came the more Peter was convinced that it had to be the one they were waiting for. He gulped. Now it was time. The moment of truth.

_„A little more posture if possible."_ Bennet spoke into his ear again. _„Remember. You´re supposte to be Sylar."_

Peter flinched inwardly. Noah was right. Sylar wouldn´t be so nervous. He would show an arrogant face if he would be in his position. So Peter pulled himself together and put on a stern face, hiding his nervousness. The guy with the shopping cart was almost at him now. Peter could see his eyes and he was looking right at him. There was no question left. That had to be their man. Peter made a step forward. The man stopped. Was that a good sign?

„Who are you?" he asked him.

„Me?" the man asked but he didn´t seem scared or surprised. „Oh, I´m nobody. Really." He looked at Peter intensely, a smile playing around his lips. „Who are you?" he asked right back.

„Who do you think I am?" Peter replied, trying to remember the way Sylar would talk to this man if he were here. „If you´re the one I think you are … you´ll know who I am." he said.

The man with the shopping cart lay a hand on his chest. „I was waiting for that day for so long now." he told him. „When I read your message … I was so flattered. Let me tell you … it´s an honor."

„What is your name?" Peter asked.

„I have no name." Nobody answered.

Peter was irritated. „You … You must have one. Everybody has a name."

„Not me. But if you like to give me one, I´d be happy to take it. Just choose."

For a moment, Peter was not sure how to go on. That was something he hadn´t expected.

_„Say something, dammit."_ the voice of Carlton Lassiter spoke into his ear. _„We need to find out if he´s the one we want."_

Peter was about to open his mouth to do what the detective had asked him so politely, but Nobody had raised his finger to gain his attention.

„I brought you something." he told him excited. „Look."

With that he uncovered what he´d been transporting on his shopping cart. There were three cylinders in it, all of them filled with some liquid, Peter could see. But it was dark and he needed to go closer to it, to have a better look. When he could see what was in those vessels, he stopped dead in his tracks. It was brains that drifted in this liquid. Each of them, carefully cleaned and almost undamaged. One was swimming under the cover of its vessel, the others lay on the bottom like stones. Peter skipped back a little.

„What is it?" Nobody asked, the disappointment visible in his eyes. „I … I know this is probably rookies work … but give me a break. I never did this before. I kept them for you. As a present."

Peter looked into the eyes of the man before him and desperately hoped that he couldn´t see that his hands were shaking. This was so creepy. He talked about it as if it was something completely normal. Not even Sylar had ever talked like that.

Keep going, he urged himself. They rely on you to bring this home.

„So it was really you …" he managed to speak. „ … who did all these … amazing things in my name?"

Nobody´s reaction was the reaction of the most humble person on earth. He smiled and lowered his gaze in a shameful manner.

„I hope I didn´t dare too much." he said.

Peter gulped and made himself continue. „And you are not just a messenger or something?" he asked. „You did it yourself?"

„I did." was the proud answer.

In the baby clothes shop, Lassiter clung to his gun tightly. „We have a confession." he cried into the radio and got up. „Move in. Move in now." With that he was at the door and stormed out. „Freeze!" he yelled on top of his lungs. „Hands in the air."

Everywhere around the place, police officers came out of their hiding places, ready to take this man on the square into custody. But right in the moment, when Lassiter yelled out for him to surrender, Nobody swirled around and then there were shots filling the air. Many shots. Lassiter was grabbed from behind and dragged back into the shop. When he stopped seeing his surroundings rush past him, he was sitting on the floor, O´Hara right next to him, her hands still on his shoulder. Outside he could hear the shots and the cries of the men who got hit.

„Goddamn bastard." he cursed under his breath. „He has an MP!"

When the rattling sound of the shots finally stopped, Lassiter peeked out. He could see several officers lying on the ground, some of them still moving, some not. The others had obviously taken cover again.

„Dammit!" he cursed.

On the market square, Peter had watched what had happened in shock. It all had happened so fast, he believed he´d had an episode of some sorts. But after the shooting had stopped again, he could hear the groans of some of the hit officers and he just knew it was real. Nobody had his back to him, still looking around for these attackers, that obviously hadn´t been quiet as unexpected to him as they all had hoped.

Peter took his decision instinctively and immediately jumped forward. _This_ attack seemed to be unexpected to Nobody. The grip on his gun was weak and when Peter grabbed it, he managed it to take it from him pretty easily. He snapped it away from him and pushed Nobody with his shoulder, making him stumble. He didn´t fall though, but at least Peter had disarmed him.

„What are you doing, Sylar?" Nobody asked, staring at him irritated.

Peter aimed the gun at him, hoping that he wouldn´t fire that damn thing by accident. „I´m not Sylar." he informed this mad man. „Sylar´s dead."

The irritation transformed into pure shock on the other man´s face and almost without transition into anger. „That´s a lie." he cried.

„Believe what you want." was all Peter would reply to that. „But if you don´t want to die you should surrender now."

Around them the police had taken new position by now. Some of them were taking care of the wounded. The rest of them was closing in. The detectives and Bennet were among them. All of them aiming their guns at Nobody.

„We´re coming over." Lassiter informed the culprit. „Raise your hands and surrender peacefully."

But Nobody didn´t seem impressed about that at all. He just looked at Peter with a placid face and then he pulled a new gun from under his coat. This time it was only a handgun but everybody flinched nevertheless.

„Throw the gun away!" Lassiter yelled. „Do it or we´ll shoot."

Peter tensed but didn´t dare to move, in fear he could provoke Nobody into really shooting off. Nobody didn´t shoot though. He just kept looking at him, with this unimpressed face of his. So far the gun was aiming to the ground. He was holding it as if he only carried a useless flashlight.

„Go on." Nobody said, his eyes never leaving Peter. „Shoot me. See what happens."

„Throw the gun away or we open fire." Lassiter repeated.

„Do it." Nobody shouted, now getting impatient. „Shoot me!"

He looked back at Peter and the moment their eyes met, his eyes started to sparkle. He raised the weapon and aimed it at him, attempting to pull the trigger. Peter pulled the trigger of the MP and the weapon started to rattle in his hands, shaking him like a spin cycling washing machine. It only lasted a second before he took his finger off the trigger again, but it felt like several minutes. Still the shots he´d fired at Nobody were accompanied by various others, fired by Lassiter and Juliet. They all had been so tensed that they just couldn´t stop themselves. Now Nobody payed the price for his dare. He got hit several times, in the chest in the stomach, in the side until the police finally ceased fire. When it was over he swayed and stumbled backwards.

Peter saw him through the smoke of the gunpowder his own weapon had caused. He expected him to fall over any second now but instead Nobody just regained his balance and stood straight again. He seemed minorly uncomfortable but – Peter couldn´t believe it – he was still smiling.

„The son of a bitch must wear a vest." someone shouted. „Shoot at the arms or if necessary at the head."

„This was the last warning." Lassiter shouted again. He sounded irritated but somehow managed it to still yell so loud that his voice resounded from the buildings around. „Throw your weapon away or we´ll kill you." he yelled.

„He´s not wearing a vest." Bennet said next to him.

Lassiter threw him a glance. The voice of the Company man had been trembling and now that he saw his eyes he could see that he was disturbed and that was something, Lassiter really didn´t like. Not at all. It showed him that Noah was pretty much freaked out over the fact that Lightly had been right after all. And that he´d been right was pretty obvious by now. Lassiter cursed. Dammit, he really had been right about this guy.

Nobody locked eyes with Peter again. The glowing in his eyes was pure evil and so was his smirk.

He pulled the trigger of his little gun before anyone could even flinch. But there was no bullet coming out of it. Just a small flame, that now burned peacefully and pathetically tiny at the muzzle of that gun. Peter didn´t know what to do with that. This goddamn bastard had threatened them with a firestarter all along.

„Who needs a gun anyway?" Nobody said with a shrug as if to say, what the hell and just threw the little toy away. „I prefer the direct contact." he told Peter.

With that he held a knife in his hand and not just any knife. It was a butcher knife, worth of a Crocodile Dundee. Peter was still not sure what to do. He was still holding the MP, he´d taken from Nobody but by now that thing had become a strange object in his hands. It was not him who fired the next few bullets at Nobody. Those came out of Lassiter´s and O´Hara´s guns.

Nobody got hit again several times. This time he barely flinched at the impacts. It was as if he was hit by softballs instead of bullets. His attention was still fully on Peter … and he was closing in rapidly. Lassiter gave up on the try to shoot that guy in the chest and aimed for the head. He hit and Nobody´s head was jerked aside.

Everybody halted when they saw this. Had he killed him?

But Nobody only stood straight again and shook his head as if to shake off a small dizziness. There was no blood on him whatsoever. He looked less than pleased though.

„Fuck, was that really necessary?" he shouted, pissed as hell. „Honesty that´s really annoying."

Everybody just stared at this in shock. Nobody took advantage of the situation and walked the last few steps that separated him from Peter. The young man tried to raise the MP again to defend himself but Nobody was faster. He just grabbed the weapon and jerked it aside, out of Peter´s hands. In the same move he rammed the knife forward and into Peter´s stomach.

Peter bowed forward and froze at the impact. Above him Nobody was still holding the MP. To keep the police from closing in, he fired around blindly for a moment. Everybody dived down and took cover.

Nobody returned his attention back to Peter, who was still bowed before him. The killer smiled.

„I know." he said. „Hurts, doesn´t it? I know. It never happens as fast as it does in the movies. It´s unfair, I know."

He turned the knife to make it go faster – he was not completely merciless after all. But in this moment he noticed that something didn´t feel right. He knew the feeling of a knife that stuck in a body. That felt different. He was also missing the satisfying feeling of warm blood running over his hand. When he looked down, to see why, his victim was looking up at him, not a single hint of pain in his eyes. Nobody panicked and searched the spot where the knife had – must have – penetrated the stomach. But there was no blood. None. What the …?

„NOOO!" he cried angrily and pushed this stubborn victim away. He flew a few meters but not even that seemed to injure him. That was impossible.

„You should surrender." Peter advised him without even standing up. „There is no way out of this for you."

Nobody was fuming. How could he dare? How could he dare to be so arrogant? First he refused to die and now he talked down to him and that even though he was the one lying on the ground.

Again Nobody shot around when he noticed the police closing in. But after only a few shots his PM was only spitting some clicking sounds. Nobody threw it to the ground and cursed.

„You can´t get away anymore." Peter repeated. By now he was standing again, closing in just like the police guys.

„You think so?" Nobody asked. He was still far from giving up. With a quick gesture he took something out of his pocket. Peter stopped, expecting a new gun. But instead of a weapon Nobody was holding something that looked like a remote.

„It´s really a good thing that I always plan ahead." Nobody told him. „Just in case."

Before Peter could even wonder what he meant with that, Nobody had already pushed the button on that remote. All the sudden the market square was surrounded by fire and thunder. At least three buildings went up in a line of bright explosions, one after the other as if it was a well planed choreography. Peter felt the heat flooding over the square like a living wave and then something pushed him and threw him to the ground.

Everywhere people were screaming and smoke was blinding the view. Peter tried to orient himself in that chaos but it was impossible. Nobody was standing right in the middle of all that, looking over at him with a smile.

Peter struggled to his feet, intending to get that bastard. And then there was another explosion, the roaring of the flames drowning all the other sounds. After that everything was just a blur.


	7. A New Day

**A new day**

Frank Wieland walked over the parking lot and into building C. The guest house. It had been two days now and he´d barely seen either Mohinder nor Sylar since that faithful night in the Jura. He was curious how things were going and if the plan of the geneticist had actually started to work out. He still didn´t believe it and on some level he even hoped that it hadn´t. Not because he wanted to tell Mohinder that he´d told him so, but because he had a problem with the idea of changing someone into something that he wasn´t against his will. No matter who it was. Sure, Mohinder´s intentions were good, even regarding Sylar himself. But still. Frank just couldn´t wrap his mind around the whole plan.

He reached the guest room number 304 and knocked. Mohinder´s voice called for him to come in and he entered. Of course he found the geneticist working on something. He barely looked up when Frank stepped in.

„Hi." the physicist said as casual as possible. „I … just wanted to check on you guys. How is it going?"

„Not good." was the short and frustrated answer. „Every time he starts to remember something, he´s thrown back again. It´s really just like he said. As if something tries to keep him from remembering. It´s a wonder that he doesn´t forget his own name again and again. I asked him for a sample to make some tests."

Frank looked at the computer screen for a moment but decided that it wouldn´t tell him anything anyway. He was a physicist and didn´t have a clue from those genetic stuff. Besides, he had his own theory about the problem.

„Maybe it´s because of his closeness to the LHC." he shared it with Mohinder. The geneticist moved his head as if he wanted to look at him, but his eyes switched only for a second to Frank, before he focused on his samples again. „Maybe we should think about getting him somewhere else." Frank suggested nevertheless.

„I wouldn´t want to risk that." Mohinder replied, still not looking at him. „Here he´s in a save environment." he said and exchanged a sample against another one to test it as well. „It´s closed and watched."

„You´re afraid he will try to run?" Frank asked with a frown.

„No." Mohinder denied calmly and looked through the microscope. „Just … in case he should remember something he isn´t supposte to remember …"

„You say that as if it was unnatural if he remembered something." Frank argued. „Those memories, those experiences are what makes him the man you know."

„This is not the man I knew." Mohinder burst out and finally looked at Frank. He was pointing at the door as if Sylar was waiting right outside. „He´s a completely different person." he told Frank. „Sylar´s confident of himself and sometimes arrogant. This man is insecure and scared."

„Of course he´s scared." Frank replied with a shrug. He really didn´t understand why this was so surprising for the Indian. „You do know that arrogance is more often than seldom a sign of insecurity?" he mentioned. „That doesn´t have to be another person just because of this."

„So you are a psychologist now?" Mohinder retorted.

„I know people."

„But not Sylar."

„I know that you will have a hard time making him into Gabriel Gray when you can´t even stop calling him Sylar in your head." Frank said.

For a moment Mohinder stared at him uncertain. „I will not slip when I´m talking to him." he then assured him.

„That´s not what I meant." Frank sighed. „You can´t just change someone from the very basics of his character. Especially you can´t. Mohinder. If he is supposte to change then he is the only one who can make that happen."

„Sylar will never change." Mohinder told him matter of factly. „Not as long as he knows that he is Sylar. He is simply not capable of resisting this hunger that drives him to kill."

„He could have killed me that night at the cliffs." Frank recalled. „He didn´t. I think he can resist it."

After that the two of them looked at each other in silence for a moment. Frank felt as if he´d overstepped his jurisdiction somehow. He sighed.

„All right, listen." he said. „I don´t know what he did before I met him. If you tell me he murdered a lot of people I have to believe that. But I can only tell you what I see now. And I see a man that needs help. A man that was capable of sacrificing himself to save the world."

Mohinder just stared at him with a very dark gaze. „You have no idea what he _is_ capable of." he said.

Frank felt his heart sink a little at this, but he was still far from giving up. „I know that he had a choice that night and he did the right thing." he recalled calmly. „I think he _is_ capable of changing. Under the right circumstances."

Mohinder just looked at him without saying a word.

„Maybe you should just trust him." Frank suggested. „His real him."

He waited for Mohinder to make a response. Something. Anything. But he didn´t got any. The geneticist just turned back to his microscope.

„First I need to find out how to keep him from loosing his memory over and over again." he said. „Everything else will have to wait."

...

„_... where three people got killed last night when several bombs went of around the market square."_ the reporter spoke into the camera. Behind her there was the destroyed square, black from the fire the explosions had caused. The firetrucks were still standing around to make sure nothing worse would happen with the half destroyed buildings. _„Dozens others got hurt."_ the reporter went on. _„Five of them severely. The police was so far not available for a more detailed statement on how it was possible that this tragedy could happen during an official mission of the police itself …"_

The TV turned dark and a moment later Lassiter threw a heap of papers at it. Everybody around him flinched, even Bennet. The sheets started to fly around the room and scattered all over the floor. One of them even made it all the way to the front door.

„Carlton." Juliet said, exhaling a little. She bend down and started to pick up some of the papers. „This is not gonna help."

„But it makes me feel a little better." he replied grimly. His left hand wandered up to his temple and absent mindedly touched the plaster that covered the bruise he had there. It was a ridiculously small wound he´d gained from that explosion. Especially since it wasn´t from a flying fragment but from O´Hara´s gun which had hit him when she´d swirled around to him.

„Dude, I bet it does." Shawn whispered at Gus and his friend nodded in agreement.

„I sure hope you _really_ feel better, detective." a new voice called through the bullpen and made them all turn around.

„Chief." Lassiter immediately stood straight again. The rest of the gathering did the same without noticing it.

Chief Vick walked over to them with a stern face.

„I have to give a statement this afternoon at a press conference." she told them. „And I´d like to tell them that we could gain at least a small advantage on our hunt for this criminal with this … disaster last night. So please tell me that you have a plan how to go on."

„We´re working on it, chief." Lassiter assured her.

„Ah, yeah?" she asked with a fake smile. „How?"

„We …"

„We now know that he can´t get hurt." Peter blurred out.

The chief looked at him with an irritated frown. Peter opened his mouth to add a better explanation but got interrupted just in time.

„Peter." Noah shook his head to signal him to better not to go on. The younger man needed a moment but then he seemed to understand and shut his mouth.

Chief Vick looked back and forth between them for a moment, trying to figure out what they didn´t want her to know. But then she decided that it was probably better not to ask too many questions. The situation was already complicated enough and maybe it was better if she didn´t know any more than she already did, when she went to that press conference. But there was still something she needed to make sure before she left.

„I´m sorry, Mr. Petrelli." she said therefore. „I appreciate what you did last night but I can´t afford it any longer to let civilians interfere with a police investigation. That I allowed this insane idea last night was pure desperation from my side and I payed the price for it. You got lucky that you were not hurt and I´m not gonna lie about the fact that this was also my luck. Otherwise I would now wait for the mayor to call and fire me. So I ask you all politely. Detectives: Please, solve this case. And better yesterday than today. And Mr. Bennet and Petrelli. Please leave and go home."

For a moment they all just stood there in silence but after another moment, Bennet nodded as if to say, yes Ma´am. Chief Vick mirrored his nod, glad that they´d understood her. Still she didn´t leave. Bennet raised both brows in surprise.

„Oh, you mean now." he realized.

„Yes." she emphasized and as if that had been a cue they all jumped and started to gather their stuff … or at least pretended to do so to not to raise her anger again. She seemed at least temporally satisfied with the action.

„I suggest you go out there and work the case that way." she told Lassiter and Juliet. „Go back to the crime scene and have a look around. Mr. Spencer you see if you can find out anything your way … honestly I don´t care what you do, just do it somewhere else but here. I don´t want the next news to say that our detectives are hiding in here while a mad man runs around murdering people. So move out."

„Yes, chief." Lassiter barked determined.

„Yes, chief." Juliet said obediently and followed him.

„Yes, chief." Shawn and Gus said, only to have something they could say and hurried after them.

Bennet and Peter didn´t say anything and just followed them outside.

As soon as they were out of the door, Bennet took Lassiter´s arm and stopped him. The detective waited willingly enough to hear what he had to say.

„We´re not really leaving, are we?" Peter asked irritated.

„Of course not." Bennet replied.

„You´re the only Special we have on our side right now." Gus added in a tone as if he wanted to ask if Peter was out of his mind to even consider that. „Against this guy I wouldn´t feel much saver if we had a dozen of you guys."

„He´s not so wrong with that." Bennet agreed. „But now we at least have an advantage."

„I´d like to hear what this is." Lassiter said sarcastically. „Because I agree with the chief. This situation just sucks."

„High five, Lassie." Shawn said, but without the usual smile on his lips. „That is true."

He raised his hand and Lassiter even raised his hand too, a subconsciously reaction to Shawn´s action. When he realized what he was about to do, he made a fist and cursed over it.

Now Shawn really smirked and held out his fist. Gus bumped into it.

„Our advantage is Peter." Bennet answered the question Lassiter had asked a minute ago. „He now has the same ability as Nobody and that means, we can now test first hand how to fight him."

„Right." Peter agreed, looking at Lassiter triumphantly. But then he realized what Noah´d just suggested and frowned. „What?" he asked.

„Think of it." Bennet tried to reason with him. „Last night we went in there blindly. We didn´t know what to expect. We didn´t know who we were fighting. Now we do. And we can even test our next move before we actually do it. That way we can plan our next try to catch that guy much better. We would know if we even had a realistic chance to really get him."

„You want me to play the guinea pig?" Peter cried.

„I _need_ you to play the guinea pig, Peter." Bennet rephrased it. „If we have only one more of these events like last night, we can as well hand Nobody the key to the armoury of the Santa Barbara police."

„He´s right." Lassiter agreed gloomy. „And I will never do that."

„We can test on you what would actually be able to harm that guy." Bennet went on. „As soon as we know that, we can figure out a plan to catch him."

Peter was struggling with himself for another minute. Then he nodded reluctantly. „All right." he said. „But I´d appreciate it if you wouldn´t fry me."

Bennet smiled at him warmly. „I´ll be gentle." he promised.

„All right." Lassiter spoke up again, not longer able to keep quiet. „_You_ do that and _we_ …"

„I´ll go with them." Gus interrupted him. „I have some ideas how to get to this guy."

„Magic Head and the Justice League." Shawn said with a proud smirk and held out his fist once again.

„You know that´s right." Gus replied and bumped his fist into Shawn´s.

Lassiter looked at them for a moment but didn´t say anything. „… and _we_ go back to last nights battlefield." he finished his sentence at last. „Let´s roll!"

...

Mohinder walked along the promenade of the small park area of C.E.R.N.´s museum. The place looked like a playground but was in fact an open air exhibition of oversized scientific instruments. But Mohinder wasn´t here to admire those exhibits. He was looking for Sylar. The doctor had told him that Sylar had gone here for a little walk. And indeed he found him quickly enough. He was sitting on a bench right in front of the big orange bubble chamber.

The killer looked into a distance that surely wasn´t limited by the building ahead. Mohinder walked over to him and after a moment, sat down on the bench next to him. Sylar looked at him with a solemn expression on his face. It was amazing how peaceful he could seem when he was in a condition like that, Mohinder found.

„I had a dream last night about my mother." Sylar started to tell him without transition. „She said I could be president." He chuckled and Mohinder couldn´t help but chuckled too.

„Yes, that was your mother." he stated. He looked ahead for a while too. His eyes found a copper construction that somehow reminded him of a figure from the Wizard of Oz.

„Where _is_ my mother?" Sylar wanted to know. „Does she know where I am?"

Again. One of these questions to be extra careful about. Mohinder hesitated.

„Gabriel." he started and had to start all over again right from the beginning. „Your mother is dead." he told him at last. „She died five years ago. She was murdered … by a man named Sylar."

Gabriel stared at him in shock. „What happened to this … Sylar?" he asked.

Now it was Mohinder who was shocked. How close this talk was to the one they´d had so many years ago. But this time he wasn´t pretending. Or was he? But no. Why should he? Because he´s a monster that cannot be trusted, his mind whispered. Mohinder fought this voice down.

„I´m actually not quiet sure." he said, answering Sylar´s question about Sylar. No, not Sylar´s question. Gabriel´s. Frank was right, he had to remind himself of the difference.

„I thought I saw him die, but I´m not sure." he told Gabriel Gray.

„I don´t understand." Gabriel Gray was confused. „How can you not be sure?"

„With Sylar it´s really complicated." Mohinder told him vaguely. „He survived a lot over the years."

„Why did he kill my mom?" Gabriel wanted to know.

Mohinder gulped. „He always claimed that it was an accident." he said.

„You think that´s a lie?"

„Sylar killed a lot of people." Mohinder stated. „My father was amongst them. And those were no accidents."

There was a sad expression on Gabriel´s face. „I´m sorry." he said and for a moment Mohinder actually wanted to tell him that it wasn´t his fault. But of course he couldn´t.

„Yes, I know." he said instead.

„And this Sylar …" Gabriel went on asking but Mohinder talked right over him.

„He´s a monster." he said matter of factly and immediately had to correct himself. „Was." After another minute he went on. „Let´s just hope that he really is dead and that he never comes back … and that you can live your life in peace. Like all of us."

„Was he after me then?" Gabriel asked.

„Sort of. But don´t worry. He´s gone."

„What if he isn´t?" Gabriel asked and looked at him with this intensely pleading gaze that was so typical for him.

„Sylar?" Mohinder asked confused.

„Yes. Sylar. What if …?"

But before he could even finish the question, Mohinder jumped up and stepped away from the bench.

„I´m sorry." he stuttered. „I … I can´t do this. I … I need to think." With that he walked away as if he were on the run. But was that comparison so far off? Not really, was it?

„Mohinder?" Sylar called after him. He´d stood up as well but didn´t follow him. He looked very disturbed by the scientist´s sudden departure.

„I need some time." Mohinder tried to explain himself. „I´ll be back but … just give me some time to think this through." With that he just walked away, before Sylar – Gabriel – could ask any more questions that he wasn´t able to answer.

Gabriel just didn´t know what to say. „To think what through?" he called after him but Mohinder was gone.

The man that had lost most of his memories just stood there. He didn´t understand anything anymore. He didn´t understand why Mohinder was scared of him all the sudden … and why he was lying to him.

...

They had no idea who they had dared. He had no name, had never had one. The one he once had had was long forgotten. Now all he was was the man that would let them see how small and pathetic they were. He had no idea who the guy was he´d tried to stab last night but he knew that he probably wouldn´t be able to kill him, since he was as invincible as he was. But he could get the others. And he would.

He´d come here to find Sylar. Now he would revenge him and make sure that his legacy wouldn´t be forgotten. These insects would pay for what they´d done. He had no idea how they´d managed it to kill Sylar but in the end it didn´t even matter. He would make them pay, oh yeah. And after that he would find that babyface from last night and find a way to make him pay as well. But first it would be the simple herd that was ready to be slaughtered now.

If they thought they got rid of Sylar just because they´d killed the man, they would be up for a surprise now. Sylar couldn´t be killed. You could kill the man but not the idea. He would see to that. Oh, yes, they would learn. And how they would learn. But first he had to teach them a lesson first hand.

He reached the building. No one had even looked around a second time while he´d walked here. Maybe because he didn´t look like someone that was worth a second glance. Now he climbed the stairs and there was still no one that seemed to even notice him. Maybe because he didn´t look like someone that was out of place. He opened the door and stepped in.

The herd was walking around in its natural habitat, totally unaware of the wolf that had just stepped into their midst. Nobody walked along the hall, heading straight for the bullpen. He could see them all but barely someone of them looked up to see him. They were too occupied, too busy with their pathetic hunt for … him.

It was almost funny. He was so close to cry out for them: „Hey you idiots. Stop looking for me. I´m right here. Care to arrest me? Volunteers please step forward."

But he didn´t do it. He wouldn´t call out for them to warn them. He wanted it to come from out of nowhere, just like he´d come from out of nowhere. So he didn´t say a single word, just took in the scenery – the still peaceful scenery – with all its colours and tones. Officers who were walking around, reading papers or carrying files. Detectives sitting on their desks, typing into their computers or talking to someone on the phone. He couldn´t see the lanky detective that was working his case though. But that was not important. It wasn´t about individuals. Not today. Today it was about making the herd panic.

One of the officers, an extraordinarily tall exemplar, caught his eye and looked at him with a confused expression. Nobody smiled. How pathetic. Should this dumbstruck one be the only one who noticed something out of the ordinary before it really happened? It seemed so. The big sheep looked around helplessly in his try to find out what it was that was out of the ordinary. But no one seemed ready to come to his rescue in this regard. The sheep looked at him again, a little more aware now. Nobody decided to have mercy and release him from the uncertainty. He reached under his coat.

„I´d like you to have another look at this, Henry." he heard the voice of a woman, just in the moment when he pulled out his gun.

„Everybody down." the big sheep cried and dived to the right.

Nobody pulled the trigger and shot around blindly. His gun was rattling under his hands, the bullets made people scream and wood splinter. Papers were flying around wildly, adding a nice touch to the chaos he´d created. In the corner of his eye he saw two people standing in a glass door. A woman and a bald guy, both of them staring at what happened with wide eyes and open mouths. He swirled the weapon around and pulled the trigger on them too. Easy are the targets that don´t even try to move.

Unfortunately someone else was moving. The oversized sheep from earlier had somehow managed it to show up again. How he´d missed him so far was beyond him but it didn´t matter anyway. He hadn´t missed the two others in the door. The big sheep could drag them down if he wanted and try to hide them behind that big desk, but Nobody had seen his bullets hit their targets and that was all he needed to know.

For a moment he considered to go after them to finish them off for good. But then he decided against it. Should the big sheep tell what he´d seen. He was the only one who´d gotten a good look at him before he´d unleashed hell in here. What was a message any good for if there was no one who could deliver it?

Nobody looked around. The bullpen looked like a battlefield now. Officers were lying around, groaning and bleeding. The ones that were still able to move hurried to pull them into cover behind their desks. Some others fired at him from there but of course their bullets didn´t do any good for them. Nobody fired around one last time until no one dared to look up any more … or maybe they couldn´t. Either way was okay for him.

„Best wishes from Sylar." he called out into the now silent hall.

No one answered but he knew that at least one person had heard him very clearly. He threw a checking glance at the glass door of the chief´s office. The glass was not there any longer. It lay shattered in shards all over the floor. Inside no one seemed to be moving. But that was okay. Should he play dead if he wanted. Nobody didn´t care.

He turned around and left. His work here was done.


	8. Newsflash

**Newsflash**

Frank Wieland took his coffee out of the machine and sipped it carefully. He had taken just a short break and was actually already on his way back to the control room. Another colleague of his, Luis Dubois, was standing in front of a screen when he came back in. A blond woman was on it and she was talking in English about some drama that had happened somewhere. Frank walked past his colleague and put his coffee down on the table.

„´ey Frank." Luis called him with his thick French accent and pointed at the screen. „Maybe you´ll find this intéressant."

„What´s that?" Frank asked and stepped to his side to have a look at the screen. Something about the blond reporter seemed familiar. So did the background.

„News from Amérique." his colleague told him. „Say. Doesn´t your sister live in Santa Barbara?"

Now Frank recognized the building behind the reporter. It was the Santa Barbara police station. What the hell happened?

„_We don´t have affirmation about the body count so far but at this point our sources are talking about at least five dead officers and over a dozen that were injured. Amongst them the chief of police, who is in serious condition and not able to continue her duty as chief. Head detective Carlton Lassiter was named as interims chief until she is recovered and able to take over as the head of police again. Until then the hunt for this mad man continues."_

„C´est dangereux en Amérique." Dubois mentioned.

„Verdammter Mist." Frank murmured.

„Pardon?" Dubois looked at him puzzled.

Frank raised a hand and demanded quiet. The reporter was now explaining the case that had been investigated before this incident had occurred. The longer Frank listened the sicker he felt. Too many familiar names were mentioned and then there was this one name, the name of a certain dead criminal, that tipped the scales for Frank and he just couldn´t stand it any longer.

„Excuse me, Luis." he said and hurried away. He needed to get out to breath some fresh air.

When he was outside and the sun was shining down on him, he felt a little better. This had been some weird out of body experience. For a moment he´d felt as if he was responsible for what had happened over there. But that was ridiculous, wasn´t it? Except for the fact that he knew something that they didn´t, couldn´t know. That the man that seemed to be the reason for what was happening over there, was here in C.E.R.N. and very much alive and not dead as they believed.

But what could he do with that knowledge? Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. But that was something he couldn´t decide. Not on his own.

He started to move again and he kept walking until he reached the hotel of C.E.R.N. and room number 304. Mohinder was inside, working on one of his samples from Sylar. This time when Frank came in, he looked up from his work immediately. Not even he could overlook the stress that his guest had brought with him.

„What´s the matter?" he asked him

„There´s something I need to show you." Frank said and switched on the TV.

He had to look for the right channel for a moment but then he´d found it. The news were talking about some other incidents right now but Frank just knew they would come back to what he needed to show Mohinder in no time. When a police station was attacked by an amok shooter, the news would not go too far away from it and he was right. After a few minutes the blond reporter was back on screen and talked about the newest developments in the case.

„_There is still no affirmation about the actual number of victims but it seems that two more officers that were involved in this shooting have died of their severe injuries. With that the body count has to be corrected to seven deaths. Our latest information also tells us that the chief of police is now officially out of surgery. Her condition however remains critical. Interims chief Carlton Lassiter was not available for a statement, so we can only assume that the investigation to find the Amok shooter, who seems to copy the MO of the brain-killer aka Sylar, will be continued."_

„My god." Mohinder exclaimed. „What happened?"

„Someone shot the police station to the ground." Frank replied and faced the geneticist. „Mohinder. Did you notice the little piece of information that talked about Sylar? This man is looking for him."

For a moment the geneticist was just baffled. „How can you assume _that_?" he cried. „They only said …"

„They said he´s copying his MO. Earlier they mentioned that the police assumes that he was trying to meet him with that."

„But … for all they know, Sylar´s dead." Mohinder recalled irritated.

„This man obviously doesn´t know that. Or he doesn´t care. He killed seventeen people so far only to find Sylar. Seven of them were police officers. If that number is even enough. They are still not sure after all."

For a moment Mohinder seemed unable to even compute what he´d heard. But then he seemed to get Frank´s drift and stared at him in disbelieve.

„What do you suggest that we do now?" he asked him. „Handing him over? He doesn´t even remember that he _is_ Sylar."

„He at least should have a word in the discussion what shell happen because of him, don´t you think?" Frank argued.

Mohinder shook his head. „I told him about Sylar as a completely different person." he said. „What he is, that man out there, is not Sylar. It´s Gabriel Gray.

„But he is Sylar." Frank argued.

„That´s out of the question." Mohinder insisted. „If I tell him now that I was lying to him all along …"

„He´ll understand if we explain to him …"

„You don´t know that. Sylar reacts very negative when someone tries to betray him. We have to focus on Gabriel."

„You have to stop thinking about him as someone with a split personality." Frank burst out, now losing his patience. He just couldn´t hear it anymore. „They are both one and the same person." he told Mohinder. „Two parts of the same soul. Every person has a dark side like that, and we´re all just one personality."

„Not like this." Mohinder claimed but Frank just kept talking as if he hadn´t heard him.

„This man out there is the same as you knew him all these years." he stated.

„No." Mohinder shook his head. „I have to believe that there is a chance to resurrect Gabriel Gray without Sylar´s part."

„But that´s not possible." Frank started to feel exhausted. „You would kill them both if you tried that." he told the geneticist. „You can´t split a human soul in half, believe me, if I know one thing then that we cannot live without that darker half of ourself."

„Well, then maybe you should talk to Sylar if you think you know him that good." Mohinder snapped.

„Yeah, maybe I should."

„Be my guest. He´s outside, taking a walk."

Frank was fuming. He was so sick of this Indian that always thought he knew everything better. So he didn´t wait for another chance of talking sense into him but took the invitation. He stormed out of the room and headed straight for the elevator.

Mohinder remained where he was for one more minute, clenching his jaw. Then he realized what he´d just done and cursed in silence. What the hell was he doing? With more curses in his mind he hurried after Frank.

When he came outside, he could see Frank heading over to building 40. Sylar was probably somewhere there in that little green space around it. It was his preferred place to take a walk. Mohinder hurried to catch up with the physicist but Frank had already reached the corner and a moment later he was out of his sight. Mohinder increased his speed. Maybe he could talk to Frank one more time and convince him to let _him_ talk to Sylar. Maybe there was a way to stop this before it got out of hand.

He reached the corner and heard Frank call Gabriel´s name. There were some other people taking walks too. Two of them were throwing a frisbee and chatted in French even while running to catch the little red disc. Mohinder searched the green space and finally spotted Sylar. He was standing on the grass and watched the two frisbee players solemnly. Frank was heading for him.

„Frank wait." the geneticist called and Frank really stopped. But not because of his call. His stop had been far too abrupt for that. Mohinder noticed that Sylar was standing in a funny way. He was bowed over and held his stomach as if he were sick. Frank was grabbing his chest as well. They both looked irritated but Sylar was definitely in more pain than Frank.

„What´s the matter?" Mohinder asked when he reached the physicist.

„I … I don´t know." Frank breathed. He seemed to listen for something.

A moan from Sylar made them both look around. The killer was trembling on his legs and a moment later he squinted and cried out in pain. Some of the other people around looked at him surprised. The frisbee that had already been on the way, passed the person it had been meant for and flew in Sylar´s direction. When it passed him, Sylar´s head jerked around and then he shot a lightning at it as if it were a missel that had been shot at him. The little red plastic toy went up in a red flame and was gone.

The people around gasped.

„Que´st que c´est ca?"

„Did you see that?"

„What just happened?"

„C´est une explosion."

Sylar moaned again and wrapped his arms around his stomach. Next to Mohinder Frank was moaning too, not half as painful as Sylar but he was definitely feeling it too. Whatever it was.

The geneticist made himself move and hurried over to the killer. He had to keep him from freaking out again in front of these other people. When he reached him, Sylar looked up at him, his face a distorted mask of pain. He was swaying as if he would faint any second. And then his eyes became clear, only for a moment and now he was really looking at him.

„Mohinder?" he asked.

The geneticist couldn´t tell how he knew that, but this time he just knew that Sylar had remembered him. Not just as the doctor that had found him in the mountains but as the one he knew for years. But before he could even digest this development, something new happened … and this time it happened above them.

Frank seemed to have guessed it earlier than anyone else, because he started shouting all the sudden.

„Everybody, down! Hold onto something! Quick!"

He´d barely finished his last word, when the blue sky above them was suddenly dark and a strong wind came up. No, not wind. A draft. A sucking draft, that was absorbing the air around them. Mohinder had only one second to realize what was going on, when he was already dragged off his feet and felt how he was lifted up. Next to him Sylar was as startled as everybody else.

Mohinder somehow managed it to reach out and grab the backrest of a bench. In the corner of his eye he saw Sylar being dragged away and reached out for him too. He had no idea how he managed it to catch him before he was sucked up and into that black hole, but he made it. Someone else was not so lucky though. Mohinder heard a scream and then he saw the shape of a man flying upwards and vanish in that unnatural darkness above their heads.

„Julien!" a woman shouted. „Non! Julien, non!"

Mohinder closed his eyes and clung to the bench and to Sylar´s wrist, praying that it would stop. And then a minute later, it did stop. The sucking force that pulled on them went away and he dropped to the ground. Above them the sky was as blue as always. Mohinder looked around. People were still clinging to the trees and benches they had been holding onto. Frank lay on the ground next to another man in a lab coat. He looked over to him and then at Sylar.

Mohinder turned around and found the killer lying on the ground next to him. He was unconscious.

...

Lassiter opened the door to the hospital room. He hesitated for a moment before he stepped in. The chief was lying in her bed, pale and a hose under her nose. But when he stepped closer she opened her eyes. Lassiter smiled awkwardly. She didn´t smile back.

„How do you feel, chief?" he asked.

She opened her mouth but for at least ten seconds there was no tone coming out. She had to struggle visibly.

„How many … did we loose?" she asked.

„Eight." Lassiter answered with a heavy sigh. „Anderson, Hawkins … Johnson … Perez, Perkins, Finnigan … Stephenson and Saunders."

The chief closed her eyes and he could sympathize with her grief. These men and women had been good officers and detectives. It had hurt to say each and every one of their names.

„Eleven others got injured." he kept talking to drown the pain but spared it to tell her those names as well. „Nothing too severe." he assured her instead. „They´ll make it."

Karen nodded. Her eyes were still closed. „Do me a favour, detective." she said with a hoarse voice.

„What?"

She opened her eyes again and looked at him intently. „Catch this son of a bitch." she ordered.

Lassiter couldn´t help but smiled but only for a second. After that his stern face was back on and he nodded determined as always.

„Yes, chief." he said.

He was in the process of leaving when she called him back one last time.

„And detective. Take good care of my chair. I want it back when I´m out of here."

This time Lassiter really smiled. „Yes, chief." he said and she nodded at him.

„Good luck, chief." she said.

He nodded back at her, grateful for the appreciation and walked out at last. It had been a short visit but he felt exhausted as if it had been hours since he went into that room. All these dead police men and women. He barely could believe it that only one man had done all this. The chief would get her culprit. He would bring her his head on a silver platter.

Outside in the hallway he found Shawn and Juliet, who´d been visiting Henry in the other room. His partner was just hugging the psychic and Carlton´s heart skipped a beat. What did that mean?

When he approached them Spencer let go of Juliet, almost dropped his arms as if he was embarrassed, and cleared his throat.

„What?" Lassiter asked confused. „What´s the matter? Is Henry …?"

„No." Shawn interrupted him. „Don´t worry, everything´s fine. He´s fine. Well … maybe not fine but …" He shuffled his feet for a moment, avoiding the detective´s gaze. „He told me to bust the sucker who did this." he told him at last.

Lassiter understood. „I got the same order from chief Vick." he said.

For a moment the three of them just stood there and looked at each other. They´d never looked so tired, at least not that Lassiter could remember. The only time he could remember that was close to this situation, had been when this son of a bitch Yin had kidnapped Juliet. But in some way this situation was even worse. This time they´d really lost some of their men and as if that wasn´t enough, Henry and the chief and eleven more of their force were injured and the bastard that had done all this was still out there.

When he couldn´t stand it any longer, Lassiter cleared his throat. „What are we waiting for?" he asked. „We have work to do. Let´s move."

...

Mohinder was standing in the hospital room, watching the doctor taking care of the unconscious man in the sickbed. It had been only an hour but that had felt like a lifetime. Okay, maybe not a lifetime but it was worth at least a hard week. He felt as if every muscle in his body was aching after that unnaturally created storm they had survived. Or better, that most of them had survived.

But the black hole that had appeared over the top of the office building, was not even the most troubling thought in Mohinder´s head. He was more concerned about what Sylar might remember when he would wake up. He´d recognized him, Mohinder was sure of that. He couldn´t say for the sake of his own mind, how he knew that. It was just something in the way, Sylar had said his name. It had sounded … different than the other times over this last week. Not as reserved as it had sounded as long as he hadn´t remembered. It had sounded so much more like … Sylar.

A groan dragged him out of his thoughts and made him hold his breath. Sylar was waking up. The old Swiss doctor hurried back to his patient´s side and watched over him, while he slowly opened his eyes. Sylar blinked a few times.

Mohinder remained where he was, at the window, far away from the sickbed and from Sylar´s field of vision. He just didn´t dare to come close to him just yet.

„Where am I?" Sylar asked weakly.

„You are at the hospital wing, young man." the doctor told him and checked his pupillary response with a small flashlight. „Building C."

„What?" Sylar squinted his eyes shut in confusion. The name of the location obviously didn´t mean anything to him. At least not immediately. But then he frowned and thought for a moment. „C.E.R.N." he remembered at last. „I´m in … I´m in Switzerland, aren´t I?"

„Can you remember anything now?" the doctor asked him. „Gabriel?"

Mohinder guessed the danger in the moment when he saw Sylar´s startled reaction to that name. Now he couldn´t afford to hide any longer. If Sylar really remembered, he had to stop this doctor before he said something wrong. And if Sylar didn´t remember … well, basically the same. So Mohinder made himself move and stepped into Sylar´s field of vision.

When the killer saw him, Mohinder could once again tell just from the look in his eyes, that he really truly remembered him now.

„Mohinder!" the killer cried a little surprised. His eyes dropped down and something seemed to work behind his forehead. When he looked at him again, his eyes were asking urgently.

„Did it work?" he wanted to know and tried to sit up. „Did I make it?"

„Calm down." the doctor lay a hand on his shoulder to keep him from jumping up. „What are you talking about?"

Mohinder sighed, fighting against the disappointment that came up in him when he finally realized that this man was fully Sylar again. How this had happened he didn´t know. He could only assume that it had something to do with this reaction to Frank who´d been the original source of his power to control the black holes. But one thing was for sure. That his plan to make him become Gabriel Gray again, had failed.

„Yes." he answered his question to calm him down. „You made it. The world is save."

The doctor looked at the two of them with an uncertain gaze. „I guess this is something you guys should talk about in private, huh?" he decided at last.

„Yes." Mohinder said. „Thank you, Dr. Bernstein."

The old medic nodded at him and then left the room to give them some privacy. Mohinder had to make himself move but he knew there was no sense in avoiding it any longer. He had started it and now he had to face the consequences. Slowly he approached Sylar until he stood next to his bed. He didn´t know what to say though. But neither did Sylar as it seemed. For a while the two of them just looked at each other, each of them uncertain how to start … or where.

Eventually Mohinder made himself break the silence.

„How much do you remember?" he asked him.

Sylar shook his head, looking down on his cover, his eyes searching for something that wasn´t there.

„I remember the night at the cliff." he then started to summarize and after a moment of silence, he smiled. „Juliet´s kiss." he went on. „And then the black hole." Again he shook his head and looked at Mohinder. „I thought I was gonna die."

„We all thought you _did _die." Mohinder let him know.

Sylar stared at him wide eyed. „What happened?" he asked. „How did I come here?"

Mohinder lowered his gaze. „Don´t know." he said earnest. „Do you remember anything after you entered the black hole?"

Again Sylar shook his head. „No. I exploded. But after that … nothing. Darkness." His eyes wandered around again and he frowned. „I … fell." he recalled. „I hit the ground and … I thought every bone in my body was breaking. Everything was quiet. For a while … there seemed to be nothing at all. I thought there was no living thing but me. I didn´t know where I was. Who I was. And then I heard a sound … approaching. Like rolling thunder. And then voices. I was so scared … I just wanted to run."

„You did run." Mohinder informed him and made Sylar stare at him in realisation.

„That was you." he understood. „And Frank." He looked around as if he expected the physicist to hide somewhere behind Mohinder. „Where is he?" he wanted to know.

„He´s outside." Mohinder told him. „Not sure where exactly. We weren´t sure if it was a good idea to let him come near you after what happened earlier."

Sylar nodded. „I understand. But I think it´s save now. Last time I didn´t know about the power. Now I know. I think I can control it."

„You sure?" Mohinder asked him uncertain.

„Yes." Sylar said confidently. He took a moment before he went on. „Can we go out and have a walk around?" he asked. „I´d like to get some fresh air."

„You feel fit to walk?"

„Yes. I need to get my sense for reality back. The memories of these last days are kinda confusing."

Now there it was. Mohinder swallowed dryly. „Do you remember what we talked about?" he asked hesitantly.

Sylar halted and thought this over for a moment. „You mean about Sylar?" he then asked him and chuckled slightly when he saw the shock in the other man´s face. „Don´t worry." he said. „I understand why you did it. I don´t blame you. Last time I had a memory loss like that it was much more violent when it all came back to me. At least this time I had a friend by my side to help me take that fall."

For a moment Mohinder was just dumbstruck over what he´d just heard. All he could do was staring at this killer totally baffled. Sylar looked back at him, unsure how to take his reaction.

„Let´s … get out of here." Mohinder managed to speak at last.

„Yes." Sylar agreed and Mohinder believed that he was at least as relieved as he was to finally get out of this situation.

But as it turned out they were not really escaping anything by leaving the hospital. After a short walk, in which neither of them said a word, they came across a gathering of people that stood together as if attempting a funeral. When they came closer they had to learn that this comparison wasn´t even that far off. On a bench there was a picture of a man, surrounded by flowers. Mohinder realized in shock that this had to be the man that he´d seen being sucked into the black hole, while he´d been clinging to the bench with one hand and to Sylar with the other.

„What happened?" Sylar asked him, totally unaware of what had happened.

Mohinder explained it to him in a whisper tone to not to disturb the mourning people. A woman that stood nearby heard them anyway and turned around to them. She was wearing a lab coat just like most of the others. Sylar caught her eyes. They were still wet.

„What was his name?" he asked her.

„Julien Lenoir." she answered. „´e was a Chemist. A brilliant mind." She started to cry again and raised a hand to her mouth. „´e was like a brother to me." she sobbed and then allowed her colleague to hug and comfort her. „Ma petit frère."

Mohinder looked from her to Sylar and what he saw in the killer´s face, was so unexpected it was startling him. Sylar looked sad. More than sad, he looked … shocked.

„I´m … I´m so sorry." he brought out but of course he got no answer anymore. The young doctor just kept crying and after a minute of staring at her, Sylar turned around and walked away quickly.

Mohinder needed a moment to realize that he should better follow him. Fortunately Sylar didn´t run very far and he caught up with him at the next corner, where he stood in silent contemplation.

„It must sound pretty ridiculous when I say something like that, huh?" was all he said.

Mohinder raised his brows. „Yes, it does." he said honestly.

Sylar looked at him, surprised at first. But then he chuckled gratefully. „I didn´t want to kill this man." he told him.

„You didn´t. It was an accident."

Once again Sylar reacted surprised, but in a totally different way this time. There was a slight almost invisible smile on his lips.

„Who would have thought that you would ever say something like that on my behalf." he said.

Mohinder could only agree. But it didn´t make any difference.

„It´s the truth." he stated matter of factly. „And I think if you can feel remorse for the death of a man, there might still be hope for you."

Sylar chuckled again, bitterly this time. It was as if he wanted to say: If you think so …

„If you want to make some amends for peoples deaths …" Frank´s voice spoke up behind them.

„Frank." Mohinder swirled around.

„I might have an idea where to start." the physicist finished his sentence. „Hello, Sylar." he greeted the man before him. „Or do you prefer Gabriel?"

For a moment Sylar seemed to be uncertain. He searched Mohinder´s gaze but then he faced Frank again and simply shrugged.

„Whatever works." he said.

Mohinder caught a glance from the physicist and he was only too aware what this gaze wanted to tell him.

„What was it you wanted to say?" Sylar asked now and saved him from further discussions.

„There are some things that happened in Santa Barbara lately." Frank revealed at once.

Sylar inhaled and stepped forward. „Did something happen to Shawn and Juliet?" he asked concerned. „Or one of the others?"

„I´m not sure." Frank admitted. „They didn´t say any names."

„What …?"

„I´d like to show you." Frank talked over him.

That was all he would say. He just turned around and led the way. Mohinder had a pretty good idea where.


	9. Decisions

**Decisions**

New developments had occurred since the last newscast, Frank and Mohinder had heard about the amok attack at the Santa Barbara police station. The already known facts were now supplemented by a press conference the new chief of police was holding in front of the station.

„_I just wanna say one thing." _the former head detective Carlton Lassiter announced from his position behind the microphone._ „Whoever this man is. He better be ready to tango, because we´re going to find him."_

„_What do you plan to do, chief Lassiter?" _a reporter asked him. Lassiter gave the young man a face as if that was the most stupid question he´d ever heard in his life.

„_I just told you what I plan to do."_ he said. _„I will find this bastard and bring him to justice. Eight of our finest died because of him and I will make him pay for that." _

_„That sounds as if you would consider vigilantism, chief."_ another reporter mentioned. _„Is that an option for your men? To revenge their comrades by playing judge and executioner all in one?"_

In this moment something happened in chief Lassiter´s face, that didn´t only make the reporter skip back a little but also the officers around him.

„_You listen to me."_ he addressed the reporter in a low tone. _„If you want to indicate that the S.B.P.D. would lower itself down to the level of this criminal …"_

„_Then you say that the man who did this will be treated just like every other criminal that is wanted by the S.B.P.D.?" _another reporter asked fearless.

„_He´ll be treated like every other criminal that dared it to come into our station and kill eight people in cold blood." _Lassiter replied. _„I will drag him in front of your cameras myself so you can see that cowardly bastard for yourself. And you may quote that back to me if you want."_

Some more questions followed but the quintessence went down to the already said again and again. Chief Lassiter promised by his oath as a police detective to find this man and bring him to justice for all the people he´d killed. After a while the news switched away from the live conference and back to the studio for a more compressed summary.

„I already called my sister and asked her to leave town for a while." Frank mentioned. „She´ll stay with a friend in San Diego. I had to threat her with coming over to watch over her myself if she wouldn´t." He threw an estimating look at Sylar. „Any thoughts of who could have done that?" he asked him.

Sylar only shook his head. „No." he said and there was something in his voice that Mohinder didn´t like because it sounded too much like the old Sylar. „But I´ll find out." he promised. His gaze was still fixed on the TV where the frozen picture of the culprit – one that couldn´t even be called a picture, bad as it was – was still filling one half of the screen.

„I´ll go and find that guy." Sylar said. „And I´ll ask him what he was thinking by using my name."

„What are you gonna do?" Mohinder demanded to know and stepped forward to draw the killer´s attention away from the screen.

„I just told you." Sylar answered, not understanding the question at all. „I´ll find him. Whoever he is."

„And kill him?"

Sylar cocked his head in surprise. „Depends on." he shrugged. When he was confronted with accusing gaze of the geneticist he pointed at the screen. „_He_ obviously killed people." he cried defensively. „Don´t tell me that you want me to be gentle with him."

„Depends on." Mohinder said calmly.

„On what?"

„On why you´d want to kill him." Frank answered the question for Mohinder. „If he´s a Special like you …"

„You´re right." Sylar admitted. „If he has an ability, the hunger might drive me to take it from him. But honestly." he turned back to Mohinder. „Would that be such a crime?"

„You said that you wanted to change." the geneticist recalled.

„I do." Sylar assured him. „But I need to do that. Not because this guy could have an ability that I want. But he knows me. I don´t know how but he does."

„He could have heard of you." Frank offered a possibility. When they both looked at him surprised, he shrugged. „A typical copycat killer … trying to imitate his idol."

„Yeah." Sylar agreed slightly irritated. „Fact is, he´s doing these things in my name." he went on where Frank had interrupted him. „Or … because of me. Anyway, I need to go there. I could stop him."

Mohinder studied his face for a moment. „You really mean that, don´t you?" he found.

„I´m responsible for what´s happening there." Sylar insisted. „He might have killed Shawn and Juliet when he attacked the police station. And even if he didn´t, next time he might. I can´t let him do this."

Mohinder was still hesitant. Could he really risk that? What if Sylar fell back into his old habits after all? Just the temptation might be too much.

„You believed me back in Santa Barbara, Mohinder." Sylar spoke up as if he´d read his doubts in his features. „Will you come with me or not?" he demanded to know. „I´ll go there with or without you. But I´d feel saver if you´d come too."

The geneticist frowned. „Saver?"

„Just in case … you know."

And of course he knew. He understood just too well. That Sylar was still not able to trust himself and his hunger to be controlled when it was needed most. Not if he was alone with no one around to call him back to reality. And that way it wasn´t only Sylar´s responsibility to go there but also his.

„All right." Mohinder said at last. And more he didn´t need to say.

Sylar nodded at him seriously. „Thank you."

Frank studied the two of them for a minute and then decided that the talking part was over. Now it was called for to move.

„I´ll arrange a flight to the States for you two then." he said.

...

When Nobody had approached the big gates, he hadn´t been angry anymore. At least not as angry as he´d been when he´d gone to the police station. This time it had been just a job he´d had to do. The second half of his message to these bastards that had dared to kill Sylar.

He hadn´t planned to do too much in there and he hadn´t needed to do much. Just enough to make the avalanche roll down the hill all on its own. And it hadn´t needed too much of a push to make that happen. He´d known that. He´d spent a big part of his life in the company of such men. They really only needed a tiny little push and all hell broke loose. He´d known that and he hadn´t cared. Not really. It could only serve his needs. The more chaos this city would experience, the better for him.

All he wanted was to let them know that they´d lost control. That they´d signed their own death sentence when they´d killed Sylar, that Sylar might be dead but that someone was here to make them pay for that. A new Sylar. A better one. Because this one wouldn´t die. If they would try to kill him they would be up for one hell of a surprise. Just the way the police had always been up for a surprise when they´d wanted to arrest him. They´d learned that lesson again and again over the years … with heavy losses of their own and none whatsoever on his side.

When he left the prison behind, the riot was just in the process of getting started but Nobody didn´t intent to stay and watch. He didn´t care what these culprits would do now that they were free. His work had been done when he´d killed the guards and opened the cells. Now this load of crap should go and do with this city whatever they thought suitable. He would just go on and do the same.

One each day, that was his plan. Just the way he´d started it. Only that this time he wouldn´t hope for a reply from Sylar anymore. This time he would show them that Sylar was back with these bodies. And they would understand the message. Oh, yes, they would. Because now it wouldn´t be anybody anymore. This time he would pick the people to kill. He would make sure that they would never sleep again. Until he decided to pay them a visit and release them from their misery.

He heard a sound behind himself and halted. When he looked back, there was a shadow. Just for a second and then it was gone behind a car. What the hell? Was one of these assholes from the prison following him? He should go to hell. Nobody walked on, but the steps followed him. Whoever it was, he didn´t want to be seen. Who was that guy thinking that he was?

But maybe that wasn´t even the worst that could happen to him. That way he didn´t need to search out his next victim. If this guy was so eager to die he would do him the favour. So he walked on as if he wouldn´t hear the sounds that followed him, sometimes shuffling, sometimes stumbling, sometimes even knocking something over. This guy must be the worst guard ever. No wonder that he was working in prison, when he wasn´t even able to disguise his presence. Nobody walked around a corner and slipped into the darkness of an allay.

He didn´t need to wait long and the idiot was there, peeking around the corner like a child that played hide and seek. Big eyes tried to see in the darkness and failed. Long curly hair hung down from the head that was stretched around the corner. The pink colour of her dress was screaming even in the darkness of this allay. Nobody couldn´t believe it. That was not what he´d expected.

He reached out his hand and grabbed the collar of the person that had dared so foolishly to follow him. A shriek escaped the small mouth but only for a moment. Then he had pushed her against the wall and the air out of her lungs.

„Why are you following me, woman?" he demanded to know.

The woman looked at him with excited eyes. It almost was as if she wasn´t even scared.

„I´ve seen the news." she told him. „You are the guy that blew up the police station, ain´t you?" She laughed and shook her head. „Man. What a wicked thing to pull of. You know they are so going to kill you for that." she told him seriously.

Nobody could only smile at this. „They can´t kill me." he told her.

„You know." she replied unimpressed. „My father used to say that too. But he´s dead. I killed him."

Nobody frowned. That was yet another thing he hadn´t expected. „You killed your own dad?" he heard himself ask.

„I didn´t want to." she assured him. „He left me no choice." After saying that she nodded at him very seriously. „I really wish he hadn´t made me do it." She then reached out her hand for him. „I´m Yang by the way."

Nobody was unsure what to do with this. This was definitely not what he´d expected. This woman was obviously crazy. But something about her surprised him beyond that simple fact. He didn´t know exactly why, but he released her. He suddenly didn´t want to kill her anymore. He would find another victim soon enough.

„See that you get out of here." he told her and walked away.

He had no idea what was wrong with him all the sudden. He could have killed her easily and there was no reason why he shouldn´t. A victim was a victim no matter how he came across it. The only thing that mattered about them was that he could present it to the police the next day. Just … not this one. Maybe it was the stupid pink dress, he figured. He hated the colour.

He´d just reached the end of the street, when he heard her annoying shuffling sounds again. He stopped and swirled around to go back and tell her to scram … and was more than startled when he found her standing right behind him. She bopped on her feet like a little girl and looked at him just the same way.

„Why do you keep following me around?" he asked irritated.

„Well, maybe because I don´t know where to go anyway." she answered with a shrug. „And I´m curious. Why do you think they can´t kill you?"

„I don´t think that." he replied. „I know it."

This reveal only caused her to laugh. She even suppressed a squeal like from a school girl. What the hell was wrong with her?

„You don´t believe me." he spoke it out.

„I´ve seen a lot crazies in there over the last few years." she told him, pointing behind herself at the by now far away prison she´d just escaped from. „One of them is still knitting on his invisible pullover." she said with a nod. „So, no. I don´t believe you. You´re not the first megalomaniac who thought he´s invincible. In the end they get shot pretty effortlessly."

„Not me." Nobody assured her but she only nodded selfconfident.

„You too." she said matter of factly.

He just couldn´t believe it. „You know that you play with your life right now." he asked her.

She waved her hand through the air. „Heard that pretty often too." she said unimpressed. „You´re the one playing with your life when you run around, busting a prison and the police station with only your crazy thoughts as protection. I for myself would prefer a bulletproof vest."

„I don´t need a bulletproof vest." he assured her but she only rolled her eyes and nodded as if to say: sure sure, whatever you say.

This time he had enough. How could she dare to talk to him like that? He would teach her a lesson not to doubt his words. Right here and now. He reached under his coat and pulled a knife and indeed she flinched when she saw it. Nobody smiled. It was always so sweet to see the fear in their eyes. But despite her little jump, she didn´t run for her life. He had to give her that. She was either very brave or just really really crazy. Either way, he had pulled the knife for a reason hadn´t he? So he took it tight and then he stabbed … himself.

She jumped again, raising her hands to her mouth and gasped. But then she realized that he wasn´t hurt, not at all, and she frowned in confusion. She inched a little closer to see better if she hadn´t just overlooked the blood that should be gusting out of his chest by now. But there was none. Nobody found it very amusing to watch her eyes grow big at this discovery. She looked at his chest and then up at him astonished. He looked right back at her with an arched eyebrow. See now, his gaze asked her.

He offered her his knife. „Wanna try it yourself?"

She hesitated for a moment, studying his face to estimate if this was a trick or not. Then she took the knife and stabbed him in the chest. The result of course was the same as before. Still she seemed surprised. Maybe she´d expected it to be a magic trick of some sorts, that would cease to work as soon as she used the knife. But it didn´t. Because it was no trick. She could feel that when the blade of the knife just refused to penetrate his skin. She stared at him in shock … and tried it again. And again. When she wanted to try again, he stopped her.

„That´s enough." he told her like a strickt father and she stopped. Her eyes were so big again.

„Oh my god" she breathed.

He could only chuckle. „You´re not that far off with that name."

...

Interims chief Lassiter had just finished the worst phone call he´d ever had in his career as the chief of police. What was it that he started this position and immediately he had to keep the city from falling apart? The door flew open and his partner stormed in, closely followed by Spencer.

„Carlton." she cried.

He put – hammered – the phone back into the cradle. „I know." he grumbled. „I just heard it. Goddamn bastard."

He stood up and started to walk around, his hand wiping though his hair in despair and frustration. He had to restrain himself from gripping really hard and maybe pull some of it out in the process. He truly felt like ripping something out, preferably the throat of that son of a bitch Nobody.

„What are we gonna do now, Lassie?" Spencer asked after a minute.

Lassiter looked at him and his partner. They looked both really upset and uncertain. They obviously expected him to make a decision. And of course they did. He was the chief for god´s sake.

„McNab!" he yelled on top of his lungs and made them both flinch under the sudden and unexpected noise. Outside the young officer jumped as well and immediately rushed in.

„Yes, chief?"

„Arrange another press conference." Lassiter ordered. „I want a bunch of cameras out there in ten minutes from now. Make that happen."

McNab looked a little helpless but nodded nevertheless. Lassiter turned to his partner.

„O´Hara, I want pictures of each and every culprit that escaped today." he told her and turned back to McNab. „And I want every man out on the streets to find them before the day is out. Got me?"

„Yes, sir." the officer replied and ran out to execute his orders.

„What about Nobody?" O´Hara asked him.

Lassiter was about to give her an answer when the thin voice of Mary Lightly interrupted him.

„That´s exactly what he wanted." the small profiler said, standing in the door with crouched shoulders. „Chaos. He wants to let us know that he is in control and we´re not."

„We didn´t lose control." Lassiter stated matter of factly. „And we won´t. Not as long as I´m in charge here. That´s against the rules."

„This man has no rules but his own, detective." Lightly said.

„Then we´ll teach him some of mine." Lassiter replied determined. And he already knew how. „Spencer!" he addressed the fake psychic and made him flinch with that. He obviously hadn´t expected to be addressed. Lassiter signaled him with his finger to follow and walked out.

Shawn threw Juliet an uncertain glance.

„Right now!" Lassiter barked without turning back around.

This time Shawn gave up wondering what he was up to and just hurried after him.

...

Mohinder shoved his bag into the compartment above the seats and then sat down. Sylar was sitting at the window. He was looking out, obviously deep in his own thoughts. It wasn´t that the scientist couldn´t understand that. There were a lot of things he needed to think through as well. But before he could do that, there was something else he needed to know and that was something he couldn´t devine by himself.

„We need to talk." he addressed the killer.

„Talk." Sylar said without looking at him. „I´m listening."

„I need to know what you´re going to do when we find this man." Mohinder said.

„I don´t know that yet." was all Sylar would say to that. „Depends on the situation."

„That´s not what I´m talking about and you know that." Mohinder hissed. „You must know where you tend to go and I need to know that too. What are you gonna do?"

Instead of giving him an answer Sylar looked ahead at the backrest of the seat before him. For a moment Mohinder thought he was thinking about an answer but then the killer turned his dark glare around to look out of the window again. In some way that was more for an answer than Mohinder had wanted to have. He grabbed Sylar´s shoulder and made him look back at him.

„I won´t let you do this, you hear me?" he hissed.

For a moment, Sylar was startled. „This man is a murderer." he stated. „And you´re honestly begging for his life?"

„This has nothing to do with how many cruelties this man has done." Mohinder told him. „It´s about you, not him. You asked me to come along to do exactly that, to keep you in line. So now you will listen to me. If this man we seek has an ability then this is the ultimate test for you to fight your hunger."

There was no big change in Sylar´s face. „I might be forced to kill him if there´s no other way." he said at last.

„If that happens then it happens." Mohinder agreed and startled the killer once again with that. „But you asked for my help and if you only use the situation as an excuse to feed your hunger, then I´ll refuse to ever help you again, you hear me?"

Now Sylar wasn´t just startled anymore but downright stunned, Mohinder could tell that from the look in his eyes. „Yeah." he said. „I understand."

Mohinder nodded. „Good." he said.

He realized that he was still holding Sylar´s collar and let go of him. He turned around and realized something else. The man who occupied the seat next to them on the other side of the aisle had returned during their talk and he was now looking at him curiously. Mohinder needed to remind himself on the fact that this man was a Swiss and only understood German. He had learned that when they´d entered the plane. Still it was uncomfortable to know that he´d listened to their discussion the whole time.

Mohinder gave him a polite smile and the good man smiled right back at him. „Schönes Wetter heute, nicht?"

...

The door was barely open when she already rushed in and looked around excitedly, spinning like a dancing princess with her arms flying around her. She giggled and hugged herself, throwing him a gaze that looked a hundred percent like a six year old girl. He almost expected her to tell him next: `I´m a princess!´

But she didn´t. She pulled the childish expression back and put on a more professional and adult face.

„So that´s your place, huh?" she asked almost casually. „Like what you´ve done with it."

For a moment Nobody wondered what part of her performance was the real one. The first one or this one. But her gaze was so earnest – it had been earnest before and it was earnest now – that it was hard to tell the difference. Right now she looked at him as if she expected something special from him. What the hell did she expect him to say? That he had a subscription for the happy home improver? That interior decoration was a secret passion of his? None of the above.

„I killed the guy who lived here earlier." he told her.

„Oh." was all she said to that. „Then these are not your furnitures, I figure."

He threw the keys on the table and shrugged. „Now they are."

„I see." she nodded and started to walk around. „Anyway, I like it. But I would put other curtains on. They really don´t match the cushions of the sofa."

Nobody couldn´t help but smirked. „Do what you want with it." he said. „I won´t stay here very long."

„Where do you want to go?"

„What do you care?"

„If I´m not supposte to care, why did you take me along in the first place?"

„Maybe I just wanted a new victim that I can present the police in the morning." he suggested and stepped closer to her for show.

„No, I don´t think that was the reason." she shook her head, not a bit intimidated. „If you´d wanted that you could have killed me everywhere." she said rightfully. „You don´t care about anything, not even about being seen."

„Maybe I wanted some undisturbed fun with you before I kill you." he kept suggesting possibilities.

„Oh, if that is all, just go ahead." was all she said. „But I still don´t think that´s the reason why you brought me here."

„You have no idea what you´re talking about, loony." he said when he had enough and finally walked away from her.

„Oh, I know that I´m crazy but that is something we have in common." she mentioned. „Only I know it and accept it. You don´t."

„Maybe I _should_ kill you." he mused.

„Yeah, but you won´t do that." she replied confidently. „Because I happen to know the detectives that are investigating your case. I could help you track their steps. I´m pretty good at this."

„I don´t need your help with anything."

„Well, then why the heck did you bring me here? I mean it won´t be just because of my cheery company, will it?" In this moment, when his gaze met her´s again, she gasped. „That _was_ the reason." she cried when the so called realisation hit her. „Aaww." she smiled and lay he head askew. „You just want someone to listen, don´t you? Don´t worry, I understand that."

„You don´t know what you´re talking about, loony." he repeated what he´d already said.

„Oh, believe me, I do." she assured him. „I know that feeling of just wanting to be heard. You tell yourself that you don´t want that, that you don´t need anyone. You did great all these years alone. But inside, you just want someone to listen. No matter if they want or not. If they understand or not. No matter who they are, even if they are the victims of your daddy. But that is even something you have in common so you figure it´s okay. And they will listen because they have no choice. Okay, they are pretty freaked out but … they will listen. At least for a while. But then they are dead and they can´t listen anymore. And you are alone again with your thoughts. Alone except maybe for daddy but …" she laughed. „Let´s be honest, he never really listened." After that she became serious again. „So yeah." she said. „I know what I´m talking about. I understand. You can talk to me. I will listen, I promise."

Nobody stared at her. He had listened to all of this, growing more and more fascinated without wanting it. There it was again. This strange something about this woman that he couldn´t understand and even less explain.

„Why were you in prison again?" he asked her.

She only smiled and rooked like a shy little girl.


	10. New Rules

**New Rules**

The bank was filled with people who wanted to get their just received monthly pay. Not the best moment of robbing the damn thing, but Johnny Laymon was in a hurry, so he kinda had no other choice but to do it right now and here. Who knew that the prison would unexpectedly have open day anyway? If that would have been announced he would have made a plan but so he had to improvise. And to improvise one needed money.

He looked around to his partner, Dan Boid. They had shared the same cell as long as they´d been inside and now they would share the same getaway car. As soon as they had the money. Johnny stood in the line like all the other people and waited until it was his turn. No attention before they were ready to drop the bomb. And now that the woman before him was done, it was time to drop it. Johnny pulled his gun.

He aimed it at the woman behind the counter and opened his mouth to yell the classics: „This is a robbery. Hands in the air and money in the bags. And no wrong movements."

But he didn´t even get a chance to say the first word. Because right when he opened his mouth he heard a clicking sound behind him, that sounded suspiciously like a gun that got cocked. A second later he had the affirmation for this guess in his back.

„You better drop it, punk, except you feel lucky today." a growling voice said behind him.

Johnny recognized the voice. He´d heard it in the news, when he´d promised the city that he would catch all the escaped culprits from prison within a week and put them back behind bars or in the morgue if they refused to go back. Johnny had never been anyone to take these police guys serious but this guy that was now the chief of police seemed crazy enough to do it. So the bank robber decided that it was better not to try anything and dropped his gun.

„Way to go, Lassie." Shawn cheered and when the culprit got cuffed and led out by Juliet and McNab, the people in the bank, that had held their breaths until now, exhaled and started to applaude.

Shawn waved at them with a bright smile and started to take some bows to thank them for their kindness. Lassiter grabbed his collar and dragged him out of the door with him.

„What?" Shawn cried. „They want to celebrate us. It´s impolite to just walk away without showing some gratitude."

Lassiter let go of him and ignored the said things. Instead he watched O´Hara taking the two culprits into the car to transport them back to the Santa Barbara prison. This one had been incredibly easy. Better than he could have hoped for. So had been the two others they had busted at the bus station and in that car port where he´d tried to crack a Nissan. Those two had been easy because they had been stupid to show up on places that were watched by surveillance cameras. This one on the other hand …

„Honestly, Spencer." Lassiter said, not able to contain his curiosity no matter how much he wanted to. „How could you know they would come here?" he asked.

The first reaction he got from the fake psychic was a raised hand at his temple and an only too well known grin. But Lassiter would not give in to that, not this time. He threw him a gloomy face and reminded him: „We had an agreement."

Shawn´s grin decreased a little and he took down his hand, giving him a face that said: all right, all right. No reason to jump at me.

„The bank fitted Laymon´s pattern before he was imprisoned." he told him quietly. „And if I recall correctly our agreement also contained the promise not to ask any questions."

Lassiter nodded the same way Shawn had nodded earlier. Yeah, yeah, whatever.

„Any other fugitive you can bring me today?" he wanted to know.

Shawn shook his head. „No, I´m afraid … Wait." he then cried and instinctively raised his hand to his temple. „Actually there is one. From the mental hospital. He´ll climb up a radio mast."

„A radio mast?" Lassiter repeated. „Is he gonna jump or what?"

„No. No, he thinks he can communicate with aliens from up there."

„All right. I call some guys to check on the radio masts in the area."

While he was doing his call, Spencer went over to O´Hara to chat with her. For a change his face was not the usual goofy one Lassiter was used to see on him. The two of them actually talked rather serious. And hadn´t they every reason to be worried? The city was currently swamped with all the crap that they´d put behind bars already. Damn that was not fair. That was not the way it was supposte to be. As soon as he´d taken care of this problem he would find this bastard Nobody and rip him a new one for that.

Speaking of which. As soon as his duty call was done, he made another call. Bennet answered after three rings.

„How´s it going?" Lassiter demanded a status report.

„Not so good." was the disappointing answer. „Peter resisted everything we put on him so far. We can´t shoot him. We can´t sedate him because needles won´t penetrate his skin … We have hope on the respiratory part though."

„The what?"

„We hope that he will be effected by things he´s breathing." Noah explained patiently and this time his police friend understood.

„Like teargas." Lassiter guessed.

„For example." the Company man affirmed and looked over at Guster. The young man stood before the door behind which they´d locked Peter. He was watching fascinated through the glass how their little experiment was going.

„We´re testing it right now." Noah told his friend on the phone.

„Tell me if it worked." Lassiter demanded.

„I will." Noah promised. „See you." With that he hung up and walked back to stand by Guster´s side.

On the other side of that door, Peter was slowly vanishing behind a wall of fog. White gas was filling the room and it got obviously more and more uncomfortable for Peter to be in there. He was visibly trying to hold his breath but that didn´t help very much. He coughed again and again. Still he wouldn´t give in though. The effect seemed to need longer with him than it would for any other person.

Noah knew what Ammonium distearate could do to a normal person´s breathing. It wasn´t a nice feeling. So Peter was either more resistent against it, now that he had Nobody´s power, or he was just too stubborn to admit how bad it felt. Noah guessed it was the first though. Not even a Petrelli could be that stubborn.

He threw a look at the bowl that stood in the ventilation, boiling and sending the nasty gas into the room. It was incredible. Just a few basic household products mixed together and they had had a potentially deadly gas. An idea, he had to admit that, that would have never occurred to him.

„Not bad by the way." he praised the pharmaceutical salesman by his side. „How do you know to do things like that?"

„Oh. I read a lot." Gus answered flattered. „Mostly on the internet."

„You can find something like that there?" Noah asked.

„Well … not really." Gus admitted. „I know a guy who works with these things. A chemist."

Noah nodded. Interesting. And quiet helpful in the current situation. He had been cautious when Guster had offered to come with them for these tests, but it had turned out to be a good asset. The Company might be able to provide them with rooms here in their building in Durham-Street and since Angela was back at its head, Noah had accepted the asset it was to have them here. But to have a room to throw everything that one could think of at Peter, was not very much, if one couldn´t think of very much to throw at him. After the bullets hadn´t worked and tasers had only a minor effect on Peter, Noah had been pretty much at the end of his wisdom. The gas had been Gus´ idea and it seemed to really work.

Peter started to cough more heavily now and at last he knocked against the door, demanding to be let out. They opened the door and he stumbled outside, bowing over and breathing in the gas-free air with rattling sounds. Gus tapped his back in a comforting gesture but of course that didn´t help much.

„All right." Noah commented the result of this test. „That´s promising."

„Only that I could have smashed the door to get out if I would have wanted it." Peter replied, wiping some tears and sweat off his face. His eyes were read from the gas. „Or even the walls." he added.

„Right." Noah understood the argument and sighed inwardly. It wasn´t helpful that they´d discovered that enormous strength came along with Nobody´s invincibility. „Means the gas is only a limited option." he summarized. „Except maybe if we can get him to be in a tight space for long enough."

„But there are types of gas that work much faster." Gus mentioned. „Maybe even nerve gas."

„Yes." Noah agreed. „But getting hands on that will be a problem and even if not, releasing it in a public place, what is most likely the place where we will face this guy, is not really an option, or is it?"

„No, of course not." Gus said uncomfortable, when he realized that he´d overlooked this detail.

„Then we have to find a better way."

„What about poisoning him with something he eats?" Gus offered another plan.

„Bring him to eat something." Noah held against this. „But you´re right." he then agreed at least halfway. „We have to test this."

Next to him Peter groaned, making a face as if he already felt sick before they could even start with testing it on him.

...

It was a cloudy day over Santa Barbara, almost as if the sky knew that the time wasn´t a nice one. But at least the breeze was warm. When Sylar stepped out of the plane he held his face into this wind and took a moment to take the sensation in. It wasn´t before someone nudged him in the back that he noticed he was blocking the way. Humbly he stepped aside and let the people pass. Mohinder threw him a glance and passed as well.

At the baggage conveyor belt the scientist took out his cell phone and started to dial.

„Who do you want to call?" Sylar cried, holding him back.

„The police." was the quick answer. „Detective Lassiter or O´Hara. Offering our help. Isn´t that why we´re here?"

„Would you … just wait with that for the time being?" Sylar asked.

„Why would I do that?"

„I´d like to have a look around first." Sylar explained. „Orient myself."

„You were in this town before."

„That´s not what I mean. Look, there are two parties involved in all of this. The police and the guy we´re looking for. They´re both involved and they both have only their own point of view. We´re outside of that frame so far. Maybe we can see something that they don´t see if we stay there. Watching, you see? Stay invisible. At least until we know what´s going on."

The scientist just looked at him uncertain. But at least he´d started to think this through. In the end he nodded. Reluctantly but he nodded.

„All right." he said. „But don´t you want to know if Shawn and Juliet are all right?"

Sylar shook his head. „Aren´t there ways to find that out without telling them that we´re here?" he asked.

„I guess there are." Mohinder mumbled with a frown. „Yes, of course." he found, spontaneously thinking of at least three different ways to accomplish that and wondering why he hadn´t thought about that at once. „All right." he agreed at last. „Then what do we do now?"

„Let´s get a car for a start." Sylar suggested. „We go into town. And then we´ll see."

Mohinder hated it but he had to admit that the idea was a good one. Maybe even better than to just run in like he´d planned it and to announce loudly: Hey people. Look who I brought you. The guy you thought to be dead. Isn´t that great?

No, that was probably not a good idea. These people were already tensed enough right now. Not a good idea to add a supposedly dead serial killer to their list. Not as long as they could estimate the situation from far away too. So they went to the rental and got themselves a vehicle to do exactly that.

When they walked outside, carrying their luggage to the car, Sylar chuckled quietly.

„What?" Mohinder demanded to know.

The killer just shook his head, regarding the car. „Why is it striking me as funny that it is a Nissan?"

Mohinder rolled his eyes. „Just get in and be glad that we got one at all." he grumbled and went to the driver´s side. „It was the last one that wasn´t set aside for anyone."

As soon as their bags were in the trunk and Sylar sat in the passenger seat next to him, he started the motor and drove off.

...

It was getting late and the low but still somehow blinding sunlight of this cloudy day had taken on a darker shade. So it happened that it looked as if the day was almost over although it was only four in the afternoon. One could get the feeling of a quiet evening, especially when he watched the couple walking down the street, slowly and calm as if there was nothing to do on this planet but to talk to each other.

Only that this couple was not the normal couple one saw in the streets. Maybe it looked like that from the outside but if someone of the other pedestrians would have been able to see deeper into it, they would have run off screaming and would have never stopped until they fell down, dying from exhaustion.

Nobody was walking with wide steps his hands in the pockets of his coat and his hat pulled deep into his face. Next to him Yang was walking lightly, almost swinging with every step she took. Her coat was open and flapped lightly behind her, something she seemed to enjoy a lot.

„How long have you known that you can … you know?" she asked him.

„Survive every kind of deadly injury?" he completed her question and smirked. „Almost my whole life. That´s why I grew up on the streets."

Yang´s smile vanished and she looked at him with a sad and asking face. It wasn´t necessary that she said anything. He was only too ready to tell her his story.

„My parents were religious fanatics." he told her. „And when they saw that I couldn´t even cut myself, they were scared to death." he chuckled. „Funny, isn´t it? Parents that are scared because their kid can´t hurt itself. They tried to kill me to save my soul. I was just a baby. When they couldn´t kill me, they left me in the woods."

Yang gasped and opened her eyes wide in shock. „How did you survive?" she wanted to know.

„Wolfs." he answered her straight.

She stared at him in shock but then he threw his head in his neck started to laugh.

„A beggar found me." he told her the real story. „He took care of me for sixteen years." The smile that had enlightened his face for a moment went away as if it had never been there. „I lived on the streets my whole life." he recalled and then his face went really dark. „When he was killed by some assholes who had nothing better to do … I went after them. Made them pay." Yang watched him indulge in this memory for a moment. Eventually he shrugged and went on. „Since then I do practically nothing but wander around."

„How can you remember what your parents did to you?" Yang asked him after a while. „You said you were only a child."

„I don´t remember." he said. „They told me. I found them and asked them. And then I killed them."

Yang was about to make a comment about this but then she decided to better not to. Instead she looked around and kept her mouth shut for the time being. After another minute she realized something and frowned.

„You do realize that we´re heading for the police station." she mentioned.

„So what? I have work to do."

„What?" she stopped in her tracks. „You already attacked them once."

„I don´t plan to attack them again." Nobody assured her in a tone that told her not to worry. „Not like that at least."

„Then what do you want here?" she asked.

He lay a hand on her back and made her keep going. „You said you know the detectives that work my case." he recalled.

„Yes?"

„Show me the car of the female one."

Yang threw him an uncertain side glance. „What are you gonna do?" she asked him.

„What do you think? I´ll send a message." When he noticed her reluctance, it was him who stopped. „Are you feeling pity for them?" he asked.

Yang wrang her hands in an uncomfortable manner. „She´s the girlfriend of Shawn." she revealed at last.

„The fake psychic that works for them?" Nobody cried. „What do you have with him?"

„I like him."

„This skinny guy?"

„Not like this." she cried scandalized and wrang her hands again. „You know … I never had a son. And she means something to him so …"

Nobody groaned and threw his head into his neck. „For god´s sake, women." he cried. But then he made himself focus. „Look." he started to reason with her. „If that is so and he´s with this detective, you may comfort him after she´s dead."

Yang´s hands stopped wrestling with each other. That was a totally new thought for her. „Never saw it from that point of view." she said.

„See?"

„But … he´ll be mad with me because I helped you."

„Does he have to know?" Nobody rolled his eyes. „Come on."

She thought this over for a second. „Right." she found.

„So are you showing me the damn car or not?"

She clung to her hands for one more minute and then threw them away as if they were old garbage.

„All right, all right." she whined and walked with him until they reached the corner that led into the street that passed the station. She peeked around it and searched the parking lot with her eyes.

„It´s that one over there." she said and pointed the car out to him. He looked at it and a satisfied smile appeared on his lips.

„You know, I thought you wanted to go out for a walk to talk to me." Yang mentioned, undisguised disappointed.

„And we did, didn´t we?" he replied, spreading his arms.

She turned halfway away from him, pouting. He just looked at her, his head askew as if to say: Oh, come on, woman. Loud he said: „Are you coming or not?"

She hesitated. „I´d prefer not to." she said at last. „They know me in there. Better they don´t see me."

Nobody nodded. „Whatever. Suit yourself. I´ll be back when I´m done. Then you´re either still here …" he shrugged as if this really didn´t make any difference to him whatsoever. „Or not."

With that he just turned around and made his way along the street like a totally normal pedestrian. Only that this totally normal pedestrian had some very special message in his pocket and it was all meant for a certain blond junior detective called Juliet O´Hara.

...

Shawn was sitting in his office. He felt actually tired after this days work. Damn this time it had really been work, what he´d done. Five criminals on one day, and that were only the ones he´d been around. According to Jules there had been three other arrests and three more of the fugitives had been spotted all over the city. The hunt wasn´t over yet but so far it seemed to go on really promising.

Shawn had to admit that he hadn´t thought Lassie would be able to keep that promise he´d announced in his statement this morning. But somehow he´d managed it to at least have a good start. Hopefully it would stay that way.

His cell phone started to ring and he picked it up.

„Yep?" he answered while stretching himself. „What´s up?"

„Shawn, it´s me." a familiar voice that made his arms break out in goosebumps said. He immediately sat bolt upright in his chair.

„Yang?" he asked. „Where are you?"

„I´m very close to the man you´re looking for." she told him in a whisper tone. „The guy that shot down your police station?"

„Nobody? Where is he?"

„I know where he is. But I can´t tell you. You have to be careful with this guy, Shawn. He can´t get hurt you know. I mean not at all. And I´m not just saying that because I´m crazy. He showed me."

„I … I believe you." Shawn managed to say. „That´s why we need to catch him with a trick. Listen. I figure you´re not just calling me to say hallo." he said and forced himself to think quickly. „So would you help us with that? Catching him I mean."

There was a brief silence in the line. „I don´t know." she said hesitantly. „If I can. How?"

Shawn cheered inside and had to keep himself from jumping up immediately. „I need to talk to someone first." he told her and jumped up after all. Somehow he managed it to stay at his desk though. „We have people who can take care of him as soon as we have him in custody." he told her. „But we need your help to catch him first. Can I call you back?"

„Better not." she said. „I´ll call you again when I can. And then you better have a plan, Shawnie boy. He´s killing someone right now and I don´t think that you´ll like it when you find out who it is."

Shawn´s heart skipped a beat. „Who is it?" he asked. „Yang? Where is he now?"

„I can´t tell you that. You would try to come here and stop him and that would end with him killing you and I really can´t allow that."

„Yang, you´ve got to tell me." he urged her. His hands were clinging to the edge of his desk without him noticing it. He had a bad feeling about this. A really bad feeling.

„Yang?" he cried when there was no answer.

„You can´t save the poor soul, Shawn." she said at last in a sad tone. „But you can save others from the same fate. So go and do what you can do best. Gotta go. Bye, Shawn."

„Yang, wait." he cried but she´d already hung up.

...

It was already getting dark when Juliet finally left the police station. It had been a long day and she was graving for a hot shower and an evening on her couch. But the way her legs felt she might go to bed at once. It had been a really eventful day. Four arrests, the last one just an hour ago in a shop in downtown. McNab had brought the man in and Carlton had shared one of his rare moments of real praise. Something that had definitely made the week for the young officer.

Juliet smiled a little when she walked to her car and that was something worth as well. There would be very few reasons for her to smile these next days, so much was for sure. Nobody was still out there and just because they had arrested some of the criminals that had escaped after he´d attacked the prison, didn´t mean that things were over. Not by a long shot. She had the bad feeling that things were just getting started.

She reached her car and ignited the key to unlock it.

„Bye, Juliet." someone called behind her and made her look around. „Long day, huh?" the officer said with a face that showed the same tiredness that she felt.

„Yes." she agreed with a smile. „Will be a long week."

„I fear so." was the reply and Juliet joined her colleague in the sadness that followed the sentence. The thought of their dead colleagues was still too fresh in all of their minds.

At last she waved goodbye and watched the other one head for her own car before she turned back and finally turned the keys to unlock the door. It was a good feeling to sit behind her wheel, knowing that she was in the process of driving home now. It would be an even better feeling as soon as she sat down in her armchair at home. She closed her eyes for a moment to imagine this. But imagining it wouldn´t bring her closer to it, so she opened her eyes again and ignited the keys. She turned it and her motor came to life.

A second later a bright explosion set the parking lot on fire.


	11. One Of Us

**One Of Us**

Shawn was standing in front of the police station and stared at the burned out car. The parking lot was surrounded by crime scene tape and CSI was busy taking pictures and other evidence. Useless. They knew the victim and they knew who had killed her.

Shawn sighed. He could have stopped this. Somehow. If he´d just had a little more time. He´d been on the phone with Lassiter when the detective had heard the sound of the explosion and had rushed outside, leaving Shawn on the phone to wonder what had happened. Now that he was here, he could see it with his own eyes and it made him want to vomit.

Lassiter´s gaze was not less gloomy. Next to him Bennet, Gus and Peter were standing in a line like soldiers who formed a guard of honour. He almost expected them to salute when the body was transported past them on the stretcher. Of course they didn´t. But they followed the smothered form under the blanket with gloomy eyes nonetheless.

Shawn took some steps to stand by Juliet´s side. She was as shaken as everybody else, maybe even more. She´d been there when it happened after all, had spoken to the officer just a minute before her death. She´d seen the explosion when it had happened. Her own car had been hit by the flying fragments and looked as if she´d driven it through a village behind which a volcano had burst.

Now she stood there and watched the stretcher being brought away, her arms slung around her own waist.

„You all right?" Shawn asked her and she nodded without looking at him. „Sure?" he asked again.

„Yes." she answered and finally looked at him, her eyes as determined as always. „Let´s just bust this son of a bitch."

As if this had been a cue, his cell phone started to ring. He picked it up immediately, knowing who would be on the other end.

„Yang."

„I can´t talk very long." she told him.

„You knew what he planned to do, didn´t you?" he asked her. „How could you let this happen? One of our officers is dead."

„It could have been Juliet, Shawn." Yang told him and his eyes shot to his right, to Juliet, as if he had to make sure she was still there.

„And that is supposte to ease me?" he cried.

„I did everything I could." Yang assured him. „He´ll be pissed when he finds out that he got the wrong detective. So I sure hope that you have a plan by now, Shawnie boy. You´re running out of time."

„Stop calling me that." Shawn cried. „I´m not your Shawnie boy."

„Oh, just accept it." he heard her grinning. „You´ll always be my boy."

„I´m not the play-doll of all you crazy serial killers out there." he cried even louder now. „I mean what is it that makes you guys think …?"

Someone took the phone out of his hand and took over for him.

„Miss Yang. Noah Bennet here." the Company man said in a calm tone. „I´m in charge of the people who will take Nobody into custody. Shawn says you wanna help us, is that right?"

„I´ll help Shawn." Yang stated after a moment of consideration.

Noah nodded. Good enough. „So when I ask you to do something that´ll help us to overpower Nobody, will you do it?" he asked her.

„Depends on." she said. „What am I supposte to do?"

...

It was almost eight p.m. when Yang stood in the kitchen, waiting for Nobody to come home. She wore a blue apron over her pink dress and on the stove there was the pan, its content sizzling and filling the room with a delicious smell. She would have loved to take a big bite herself hadn´t she known that the waffles were poisoned. The only way to take her friend Nobody down without using any violence.

They had promised her that they wouldn´t hurt him, when she managed it to let him eat these waffles so he would sleep. They would take him into custody and make sure he wouldn´t escape anymore but he would live. And she would be allowed to write him letters and maybe even call once in a while. It wasn´t the best life one could have but it was the best for everybody, she knew that. He would be mad with her first, she knew that too. But in time he would understand. At least she hoped so.

She looked at the pan and the plate full of sweet waffles and sighed. She really wished there would have been another way. But there simply was none. What was that that all the men in her life ended up dead or in prison? The only one that had turned out better was Shawn. And if she was honest, she couldn´t exactly take credit for that.

She sighed once again. Something was moving over the worktop and she turned her head. It was a cockroach. Yang took the waffles out of the pan and then used the pan to smash the little crawler. One poor thing less on this world that had to worry about betrayal and a life in prison.

The door went open and she swirled around, putting on her best and sweetest smile. Almost as sweet as those poisoned waffles.

„You come just in time." she greeted her friend. „I made waffles. Come, sit down. Have a snack."

„You´re like a mother to me." Nobody said and hung his coat on the hook.

„Of course I am." she replied flattered. „You were missing a mother for so many years. It´s about time someone takes care of you. Who knows. Maybe if your mother would have been there for you, loving you, maybe you would be different today. More cheery."

„Maybe." he cocked his head as if he had to think this over. „But I doubt that." he then said.

She looked into his stern eyes for a moment and then they both started to laugh.

„Come on." she said, smiling widely. „Try them. I worked the whole evening on them."

Nobody bowed over the plate to sniff the waffles. „Hmmm." he made. „Smells great."

„Try one." she urged him.

He was in the process of picking one up, but then hesitated.

„Stop." he said. „First …" He raised his hands as if they were wet. „Hands." he said and got up.

Yang gave him a smile. Of course. She watched him how he went over to the sink and started to wash his hands.

„I had one hell of a day since we separated yesterday, I can tell you that." he mentioned.

Yang had to keep herself from biting her fingernails. „And that is something a sweet snack and a coffee can fix." she said with a smile, her voice almost even.

He dried his hands and turned around to her smiling. „Of course it will." he agreed. „But don´t you wanna know what happened?"

„Sure." she claimed, hoping that he couldn´t see how tensed she was. „What was it?"

„It´s about that police car I booby trapped, you remember?"

„Sure. How could I forget that?"

„Well …" he shrugged. „Looks like I got the wrong detective with that."

Yang forced herself to look surprised. „What?" she cried. „How did this happen?"

„Seems someone showed me the wrong car."

There was a brief silence but Yang wouldn´t allow him to look accusingly at her. „Okay." she raised her index finger at him and claimed absolutely convincingly: „That is impossible. I´m sure I showed you the right car. That car was exactly the one she drove when they arrested me."

He looked at her with raised eyebrows that asked her: Oh, really?

She lowered her finger and shrugged. „But well …" she went on, pouting a little. „Sometimes they switch cars to save miles or something. Or this detective borrowed the car from her colleague. What do I know? But I showed you the right car, I´m sure of that."

„All right, all right." he raised both hands as if to calm her down. „I didn´t want to argue about that." he said. „You´re right, there could have been a lot of reasons for this mistake. It doesn´t matter." He threw the towel onto the worktop and smiled again. „At least they got my message, didn´t they?"

She smiled back at him, released that he believed her. „Sure they did. They got your message."

Nobody nodded satisfied at this. „But I´ll have to send them another one." he decided. „This blond detective is still on my list."

„You do that." Yang agreed. „Let them know that you mean it. But first … we´ll eat. I worked the whole evening for these. Now you´ll eat them."

„Ah, yeah." he came over to the table. „The waffles." He sat down, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

She watched him take his knife and fork, biting her lips in excitement. But instead of eating, he halted and looked at her.

„You first." he said.

„Oh, no." she insisted. „I made them just for you. They are the most delicious waffles that there are and they are all for you."

„If they are so delicious I don´t want them just for me." he denied. „You may have one too."

Yang bit her lip again. „All right." she said. „But you first. I made them for you."

For a moment he didn´t seem quiet sure what he wanted to say next but it was obvious that it wasn´t: Okay, thanks Yang. You´re the best.

„Don´t get me wrong." he said at last. „But I´m pretty geeky when it comes about food. And you know what they say. A cook that doesn´t like to lick his own fingers, can´t be a good cook. So I´d like to see you eat one first. If you like it … I believe you that they are good."

He had smiled the whole time and he was smiling still. Yang saw that smile but she also saw something in his eyes that was not smiling. Or did she? She wasn´t sure. Why wouldn´t he just eat them? Was that too much to ask?

She chuckled for him and looked down on the plate. „But I ate so many of them already, my stomach hurts." she told him. „You have no idea how many I already made before you came. I ate at least a dozen, because they are so good. If I eat just one more now, I would vomit. And you don´t want me to vomit all over your plate, do you?"

„No, of course not." he laughed. „That would be nasty." He laughed at her and she joined his laughter, tensed as hell. Eventually he stopped laughing again and looked down on the waffles.

„But you know …" he went on. „There is some more that troubles me. Not the police car, that is in the past."

„Don´t you want to eat before we talk about business again?" she asked, slowly getting nervous.

He just raised a hand to shut her up. Wait, wait, let me finish. So she shut her mouth and listened.

„You see, obstacles like picking the wrong car to blow up …" he said. „Things like that can happen. It happens all the time. Nobody´s perfect."

Yang immediately picked up the pun he´d made and started to laugh. He didn´t seem to care though.

„But there are other things that are not so simple and that don´t just happen." he went on. „And those are things that I can´t just put aside as obstacles either."

„And what is that?" she asked.

„Betrayal."

„Betrayal?"

„Yes." he said. „Betrayal."

Finally he took a piece of the waffles with his fork and held it up. She watched him how he looked at it, every muscle in her body stretched to breaking point. Would he finally eat it? Please, she begged in her mind. Just eat it. Then everything will be all right, I promise. But he only looked past the piece of waffles and into her eyes.

„You know, you were right." he said. „I never had a mother. Someone who cared for me like one. To make me waffles and coffee when I come home. Who knows. Maybe I really would have been another man if I had had one."

She nodded at him, giving him her most sympathetic face and lay a caring hand on his arm. He nodded back at her, his eyes as sad as hers. He faced the waffles again and sighed.

„Unfortunately we will never know that." he stated matter of factly and looked back at her. This time his eyes were not sad anymore but disappointed. „Why did you do it?" he asked.

„Why did I …?"

„I really believed that you were on my side." he talked right over her. „I kinda trusted you and this is a big deal for me."

„Honey, I …"

All the sudden the plate that had been standing on the table was flying through the air and shattered against the wall. Yang jumped up in shock. One gaze into her friend´s eyes and she knew that she would be the next one to fly against this wall. She tried to bolt for the door but she only made two steps before he grabbed her and pushed her into the wall.

„You misunderstand that." she cried, barely able to breath under his grip. „I only wanted to protect you."

„By poisoning me?" he asked. But then he smiled. „Well. Maybe I should even understand this twisted kind of thinking." he said. „My real mother tried to stab me after all. Maybe this is just our way of showing love. What do you think?"

„Yes." she said and smiled at him. „Yes, it is. I mean … we´re all insane, ain´t we? And just for the record, the waffles wouldn´t have killed you. Just put you to sleep. I demanded that they wouldn´t hurt you."

Nobody nodded at her with a kind smile on his lips. She smiled back at him, full of hope that he actually did understand her point of view. That she had only done that to help him. To help everybody.

„You know I really kinda liked you." he told her. „This is really sad. You were a good listener."

„I still could be." she assured him.

He only looked at her with this regretful gaze of his and shook his head. „No." he said. „You can´t."

...

Christine Argatha was on her way to work. It was early in the morning and she was still sleepy. Her coffee maker had given up its ghost and she had to stop on her way to grab a coffee from Starbucks. She parked her car and got out, dropping her keys in the process and bowed down to pick them up. Her eyes fell on a spot on the other side of the parking lot.

It was a small green belt. Since it was still so early in the morning it was dark under the trees but not too dark. Christine could clearly see that something was there. It had human form but it was not moving and it had a posture like a scarecrow. That was the reason why Christine first believed it to be just that. But why should anyone put a scarecrow into a public green belt? Especially one that was so small.

At last her curiosity got the better of her and she crossed the parking lot to have a better look at it. Later on she would regret that she´d done it. What she saw there was something she really hadn´t needed on her empty stomach. She´d never guessed that someone could vomit with nothing but water in the stomach. She learned that one could.

...

Mohinder sat behind the wheel and bit his knuckle. The sight he and Sylar were watching through the windshield was not an easy one to take. They had parked the car at the curbside, a little down the street from the Starbucks where the body had been found this morning. The police was currently in the process of investigating the crime scene. And even though they were too far away to see any details it was enough to know that it was not pretty.

The brain had been removed once again and the woman had been put on a pale like a scarecrow, a sign around her neck that read: Next time come for me yourself.

„This man is much worse than you could have ever been." Mohinder commented the scene.

Sylar turned to him and gasped falsely. „That is so sweet of you to say that." he said.

When Mohinder didn´t give a response, he shook his head and turned back to his business of watching the crime scene. It was annoying. They sat here for hours as it seemed and still there was nothing going on out there nor in here that seemed as if any kind of progress was made. All it caused was that he grew more and more impatient with the silence in this car.

Sylar sighed. It had been his idea to stay out of the frame, he reminded himself. So he had to deal with the not so pleasant side effects of it. Playing stakeout with Mohinder was one of them. He just remembered why he´d never become a cop in real life.

For a moment he smirked about this thought, feeling a little better. The scene in the parking lot really was like a bad reality show. One that provided the viewer with only one point of view and that one point of view was a steady camera. It was not really helpful to learn anything new. But to find the killer, they needed to learn new things. They literally needed a new point of view.

„If I were him, I would want to see that." he mused, talking more to himself than to Mohinder.

„What?" the scientist asked startled.

Instead of repeating what he´d said, Sylar took a decision. „I´ll have a look around." he said and got out of the car before Mohinder even had a chance to protest.

„Where are you going?" he cried, leaning over the passenger seat to look after him.

Sylar bowed down again and looked back inside. „I just told you." he said. „I´ll have a look around."

When the scientist hesitated, unsure whether he should object or not, Sylar gave him a reassuring smile.

„Trust me." he said. „I´ll be back. Try not to be seen in the meantime."

With that he closed the door and walked up the street, heading first for the Starbucks and then for the crowd of rubberneckers that had gathered around the crime scene. On his way he passed a tree and hid behind it for long enough to change his face unnoticed. It wouldn´t be helpful for his observance if Shawn and the others would recognize him after all.

...

Back in the car, Mohinder cursed inwardly over this stubborn and selfserving bastard that Sylar was. He should have known that he would run off at some point, leaving him behind like a stupid cab driver, who was merely good enough to drive him around. God, he hated that. And he hated it even more to know that Sylar was right. They needed to see better what was going on over there than they could see from inside this damn rental Nissan. And since he couldn´t change his face the way Sylar could, he just couldn´t afford to come closer to the crime scene and the investigating detectives. God, how much he hated this.

He tried to watch what Sylar was doing over there, unconsciously biting his knuckle again. Damn, if he could only see better. He should have parked on the other side of the street. Now it was too late for that. If he would move the car away only to park on another spot along this street the police would notice him. He better didn´t do anything.

Someone knocked against his window and made him jump. When he looked up he saw the asking face of Burton Guster, the friend of the fake psychic Shawn Spencer. He stood right next to his window. Mohinder sat back in his seat and cursed in silence. Dammit. How could that happen? They had parked so far away to _not_ to be detected.

Gus knocked again and Mohinder forced himself to smile at him politely. He got out of the car.

„Dr. Suresh. When did you come back?" Gus asked him without transition.

„Ehm, yesterday." Mohinder answered him as honest as he could without giving anything away. God, he could already hear Sylar reproving him for this. „I heard what happened here." he smoothly switched the subject to keep Gus from asking any more questions. „That´s awful."

„Yes, it is." Gus agreed with a heavy sigh. He looked back at the crime scene and shook his head. „It is as if Santa Barbara is haunted by serial killers. I know I should be there and help Shawn collecting clues but …"

He shook his head again and Mohinder didn´t need to know any more to understand that Gus hadn´t even been near that body. And this had probably been the only reason why he´d spotted him in the car. Great. He´d been detected because this man had a weak stomach.

...

Sylar walked along the lines of rubberneckers, circling around the crime scene in an unsuspicious speed. So far everything looked typical and not necessarily special in any way. Nothing that would give him a hint to where to find the man he was looking for.

The body was arranged pretty much like a real scarecrow. Not the most original idea but acceptable. The skull on the other hand had been sawed open by a rookie, he could see that very clearly. He had probably used a knife for it. A hunters knife he guessed but he could be wrong with that. It was a messy work in any case.

Sylar wondered for a moment, what the guy had done with the brain. Since he didn´t really believe that he had the same need for them as he´d had it back then, he really wasn´t sure. But there were only three possibilities, he could think of anyway. He either kept them as souvenirs, threw them away or … but that last possibility was too disgusting to even think of it.

He stopped for a moment, when he spotted Shawn standing at the side of the crime scene. He looked tensed and there was no smile on the usually so lighthearted face. His eyes were taking in the scene, searching for clues. Sylar watched him for a while, wondering what the fake psychic would do if he knew how close he was. For him he was still dead after all. An interesting thought. As if he were a ghost, walking the earth.

As if he´d heard him, Shawn suddenly turned around and looked in his direction. For a moment Sylar believed he would see him, but Shawn´s eyes were searching the general direction, probably still searching for clues. But then the fake psychic noticed the intense stare and looked directly into Sylar´s eyes. The killer in disguise couldn´t help the smirk that appeared on his face, but he suppressed it.

„Spencer." he heard the voice of detective Lassiter and Shawn turned around.

Sylar used the moment to hurry away and out of Shawn´s field of vision. When the fake psychic looked back at this irritating rubbernecker again, he was gone.

Sylar walked further around the crime scene and chuckled. He would never know. Or maybe one day he would tell him. If opportunity gave. He threw an unplanned look over the parking lot to where Mohinder had parked the car. What he saw there made him stop in his tracks once again.

Please tell me that this is a joke.

Sylar sighed. He should have known that he would mess it up. The man just had no experience with stakeouts like that. Shaking his head, Sylar took his cell phone out.

...

On the other side of the parking lot, a few feet down the street, Mohinder´s cell phone started to ring and interrupted the chat he had with Gus. He took it out and looked at the caller ID, even though he already knew who was calling him.

„That´s my cousin Jay." he told Gus. „Excuse me for a second."

„Oh, of course." Gus said.

Mohinder walked a few steps before answering the call. „Jay?" he said loud enough for Gus to hear it.

„You are great as a spy." he heard a voice that was not Sylar´s but was Sylar´s nonetheless. Just the tone he spoke in was unmistakable. „Are you always detected that easily?" the shapeshifter asked him.

„He knocked on my window." Mohinder replied defensively. „What was I supposte to do? Drive away?"

„What did you tell him?" Sylar demanded to know.

„Nothing. I told him I was here to see my family after what I heard in the news."

„You think he bought it?"

„Don´t worry." the scientist told him grimly.

„Unfortunately I have to." was Sylar´s response and what came next, left the scientist even more baffled with an open mouth. „You slipped, Mohinder." he said. „You´re inside the frame now."

„What?" Mohinder cried.

„I told you, I need to stay outside the frame to really do something." Sylar repeated. „You´re inside now."

„What are you talking about? I´m nowhere inside." Mohinder cried and made Gus look around at him confused.

„Yes, you are." Sylar insisted on his point of view. „I´m sorry, but I can´t risk that you drag me into this along with you."

„What do you mean with that?"

„I need to do this on my own terms." Sylar stated. „Don´t tell them that I´m here. Maybe then I can still do something."

„You are aware of the fact that you are not a secret agent." Mohinder asked, just in case Sylar had forgotten this tiny fact of reality.

„I´m on a mission nevertheless." the killer insisted.

„You will not go alone." Mohinder warned him. „You asked me to come so I could help you. If you go alone now, then this means that you lied again."

„I didn´t lie. I´ll stay in contact, I promise. But I need to go and do that alone." When he spoke again, Mohinder could hear that he was smiling. „Trust me." he said. „I know what I´m doing."

„Wait." Mohinder cried. „Sylar. Wait."

But Sylar had already hung up on him. For a moment the geneticist just stood there and clenched his jaw. When he didn´t know anything better to do to let his frustration out, he did what everybody would do. He hit his fist on the roof of his car.

„Dammit!"


	12. You Are Like Me

**Sorry about the delay, guys. Major real-life crisis that had to be handled. But since no one reviewed the last chapter I guess I´m not the only one. Anyway. We´re back now. So let´s get going. It´s about time.**

* * *

**You are like me**

Sylar walked down the street, leaving the crime scene behind as fast as he could, just in case Mohinder should try to follow and stop him. It was a shame but it had to be that way, there was just no way around it. If the good doctor only hadn´t allowed that Gus spotted him. But done was done and now he had to run with it. Literally. Unfortunately leaving Mohinder behind also meant that he had lost his ride and that meant he had to walk from now on. But as soon as he was out of public sight that wouldn´t be a problem any longer. What did he have abilities for? And one could see so much more from above anyway.

He was just passing a corner and threw a glance behind to make sure that no one was paying attention to him back at the crime scene, when suddenly a hand grabbed his collar. Sylar was pushed against the wall on the other side, already expecting to see Mohinder, who wanted to teach him not to wander off like that. But instead of the familiar pissed gaze of the geneticist he had a completely strange but not less pissed face before him. He was in his mid forties, had gray eyes and a tanned face that was lined from many hard years.

„Who are you?" the man demanded to know, holding his throat in a threatening way. „I saw you change your face. What kind of a trick is that?"

„You must be confused." Sylar coughed under the grip of that angry man.

„Oh, I am." was the surprising answer. „But not that much. You are like me, aren´t you?"

„Depends on." Sylar replied. He had gotten the idea of who this guy was, as soon as he´d seen him. But now he had confirmation. „Who are you?" he asked him now. „Are you the one who committed these crimes?"

„Show me your real face or I break your neck until your bones are nothing but a heap of dust."

Sylar arched a brow at this. „I guess that was a yes then." he said.

Despite the fact that this man´s threats weren´t really a threat to him, he complied to what he´d demanded and changed his face back into his real self. The reaction in the other man´s face was one of interest. A rare reaction to the first encounter with a real shapeshifter. Sylar was interested too.

„Who are you?" the man wanted to know.

Sylar smirked, knowing what would come next. „My name is Sylar." he revealed.

The expected reaction came promptly. This time he could see the shock in the other man´s eyes. But it lasted only for a few seconds. Then the hand around his throat tightened again.

„You better don´t lie to me, pal." he hissed. „Because I wasn´t joking when I threatened to kill you."

„I know you weren´t." Sylar replied unimpressed.

His opponent didn´t say anything. He seemed to wait for some more and Sylar decided to give it to him. Without doing any more but looking at him, he shoved him backwards and threw him through the air. When one asked for it, he had to expect to really get it.

The man that called himself Nobody flew a good deal down the street before he landed on the pavement again, right in the middle of the street. It was a good thing that there was so less traffic here or this small demonstration would have caused an accident. Just as Nobody stood back up, a car passed and honked its horn. But other than that nothing happened. The real traffic was passing by beneath them, on the highway their street only bridged.

It wasn´t the best place for a standoff like that, Sylar mused but he had started it and now he had to go through with it. This whole thing had happened much faster than he would have expected it though. He started to approach Nobody, who didn´t seem a bit disturbed by that flight he´d just experienced. Quiet the contrary. He looked as if he´d enjoyed it. His gaze he threw at Sylar was almost … ecstatic.

„It´s really you." he breathed. „The real you. Sylar." He spread his arms and told him excited: „I came here all the way from the other side of the continent to find you. They tried to convince me that you were dead. But I knew that this was a lie. People like us don´t die. We´re not as weak as normal humans. We´re gods amongst the insects."

Sylar frowned. Was that guy for real? He couldn´t be as crazy as this, could he? But the look in his eyes told him that he indeed meant what he said.

„You´re insane." Sylar found.

„But so are we all." Nobody replied, smiling confidently. He talked as if Sylar had just complimented him instead of insulting him.

„Why did you do all these things?" Sylar demanded to know. „Using my name."

„I know that was bold." Nobody admitted, still talking far too confident to be healthy. As if he didn´t even realize that Sylar was threatening him with his life if he would give the wrong answer. This guy really had to be insane.

„But I did it with the greatest respect, believe me." he now assured him.

„Respect?" Sylar repeated. „You really are crazy."

„Is it crazy to worship one of the greatest beings that ever lived on this planet?" Nobody asked, sounding like a missionary who tried to convince a doubter about he existence of god. „Is it crazy to try to be like him even if one knows that it is impossible to ever reach the same level? Is it crazy to show respect in the only way that one knows with the simple tools that he has? To build a shrine for the one that you worship the most? The one being in this world that is greater than yourself?"

Sylar just stood there, unable to compute what he´d just heard. This was more than just crazy. It was highly irritating.

„I´m not a god." he stated as if that was a shield against this irrational talk.

„Oh, but you are." Nobody replied, profoundly convinced about this fact. „Who else could be one if not you? You were the one who raised slaughter to a new level. You showed them how little one of their lives means to people like us. You …"

„Stop that." Sylar cried, when he couldn´t stand it any longer. Only one more word of this insane talk and he would have to scream. „I´m not that guy anymore." he stated and finally, finally he made him shut up.

Nobody just stared at him, totally taken aback for a change. He looked like someone who was told that the world was round after he´d believed that it was a plate, all his life. He looked at him, squinting wary as if to figure out where the mistake in that picture was hidden.

„What do you mean?" he demanded to know.

„I´m not here to thank you for what you did in my name." Sylar told him. „Or to … bless you after I was pleased with your sacrifices. If you really believe that, then you´re more than just insane."

„Then why are you here if not to take me into your circle?" Nobody wanted to know, still not understanding where this talk was supposte to go. „Are you here to kill me?" he took a guess. „I told you, I didn´t mean to insult you with my work."

„But you did." Sylar replied, jumping on that crazy train if that was the only talk this guy understood. „You insulted me." he stated. „And that´s why I have no choice but to punish you. You will not go on with these crimes."

„Crimes?" Nobody repeated, totally baffled over the use of this word.

„You won´t keep killing in my name." Sylar rephrased it. „Or in any other name for that matter. Your career ends here and now."

Sylar held his hands down, his palms up and let fire light up in them to underline his words. It didn´t scare the other man the way he had hoped it would though. The only change it caused in Nobody´s gaze was that the confusion was gone from it. Now he looked at Sylar with determination. The termination to fight.

„You will have a hard time when you try to kill me." he told him.

„I´ll give it a try." Sylar replied.

He raised his hand to throw a ball of fire at Nobody, but in this moment a car passed by and Sylar closed his fists to hide the fire from strange sight. The car passed and crossed the bridge without so much as slowing down. The driver didn´t turn his head a single time.

Nobody arched an eyebrow at Sylar in a mocking way.

„I don´t need fire to handle you." Sylar said and raised a hand.

Nobody straightened when he felt the telekinetic grip on his throat. But the knowledge that he was at Sylar´s mercy, didn´t seem to be enough to wipe that slimy grin from his face. It didn´t matter, Sylar thought angrily. Something else would. He raised his finger and pointed it at Nobody´s head.

As strange as it was, the gesture only seemed to increase this madman´s fun. Sylar started to cut, to finally make him stop grinning that stupid grin at him. It helped. For a second there was something like shocked surprise on his face. Sylar knew that gaze. It was the moment when the pain of his cutting sank into the consciousness of the victim and told him that he was gonna die. And then Nobody threw something to his side and next to Sylar something exploded.

It was a car, that had been parked a few feet away at the curbside. Sylar got hit by the shockwave and was thrown down to the ground. On the edge of his perception he noticed the flames shooting up into the air. A rolling cloud of fire that would be seen in the next two neighbourhoods by the sight of it. Down on the highway, tires were squeaking and horns got honked.

A hand grabbed Sylar and dragged him back up, pushing him against a lamp post. Nobody looked at him and he was still grinning, despite the cut he had on his forehead. He touched it for a moment and then looked at the blood on his fingers.

„How did you do that?" he asked astoundingly calm. „I never bled my entire life."

Sylar raised his brow for a moment. „I´m a god, remember?"

„So that is how you did it all the time." Nobody understood. „Interesting." He shook his head. „But unfortunately you won´t get another chance to do that anymore. As I told you. You´ll have a hard time when you try to kill me. A really hard time."

With that he wound out and then rammed his fist into Sylar´s stomach, hard enough to make it come back out on the other side. On the street behind them tires were squeaking but then the car that had passed by, just increased its speed and drove away from that gory sight. Nobody watched it vanish and smiled. He was still smiling when he turned back to Sylar.

„You know." he said. „I thought we´d be one of a kind. But obviously I was wrong. That´s really a pity. But maybe it is time, that god is chased off his throne. By the devil."

Sylar, who was still not able to do any more but fighting for air, couldn´t give a response. But Nobody hadn´t expected him to say anything. There was no argument against a logic that was so punchy anyway. He held the gaze of the man he´d considered a god for one more moment, and decided that he had to rethink his idea of gods amongst men. He´d obviously looked in the wrong place. Why searching this in other people anyway? He´d proven himself worthy more than just once.

He pulled his arm out of the body and watched Sylar drop to the ground. So pitiful. And something like that had been his inspiration.

While he waited for the body of this fallen god to cease function, he wiped his hands on a cloth, like a mechanic after the finished work. Sylar lay before him, writhing on the ground like some dying vermin. It was pathetic. Finally he rolled on his stomach and lay still. Nobody threw the piece of cloth on his back and turned away from him. It was time to go and take over his place as the new king of death.

He´d crossed the bridge halfway, when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Who would dare to follow him? When he turned around to find that out, an invisible force pushed him against the railing of the bridge. What he saw made him doubt his eyes for a moment. It was Sylar. His shirt was covered in blood but there was no wound anymore.

When Sylar saw his shocked face he smiled. „You didn´t know that gods can´t get killed?" he asked.

Nobody shook his head in denial. „How did you do that?" he demanded to know.

Sylar only smiled at him. „That´s magic." he said and then threw his arm aside, making Nobody fly through the air once again.

But this time Nobody was faster. Instead of landing on the pavement like the first time, he reached out and managed it to grab the parapet. His flight got stopped abruptly and he felt the pain in his shoulder when his muscles got stretched. But he ignored it. Instead he used his other arm to take another grenade out of his pocket. Good old faithful explosives. When Sylar raised his hand to attack him again, he just threw it.

Instead of throwing Nobody onto the street, Sylar had to parry the grenade, so it wouldn´t hit him. It flew into the middle of the street and right in front of a car that had the bad luck to pass by in this moment. The driver steered the wheel in his panic and when his car hit the kerb, it jumped up and broke out, running pinpointed into the parapet … and into Nobody.

The parapet gave way easily and the car dived down the bridge like an Olympian diver. Down on the highway people were already honking their horns in expectation of the inevitable collisions. But it never came that far. Just before the car crushed down into the heavy traffic, something changed its course and guided it past the highway until it landed relatively soft on a grass verge. Cars were hitting the breaks anyway and drove into each other. Barely ten seconds later the highway was blocked and the air filled with honking horns and shouting people.

The driver of the magically saved car, managed it to climb out on his own, just before his legs gave in and he fainted on the grass.

Up on the bridge Sylar looked around to find Nobody. But Nobody was gone. In the distance he could hear sirens approach. It wouldn´t be long before the whole Santa Barbara police would be gathered here. What a great start for his secret mission.

Sylar cursed and hurried to get away before the cops would arrive.

...

Dammit, what a day. First the crime scene with the newest victim, what happened to be a former suspect herself, and now a major crash on the highway, just half a mile away from that said crime scene? Somehow Lassiter couldn´t believe in a coincidence. Especially not since they´d found blood on the bridge from which that car had almost crashed into the highway – enough to think that a cow had been slaughtered there. And certainly not after all these weird statements they had gotten so far. None of them made any sense at all.

Only that they made perfect sense regarded from the right angle. A car that crashed through the railing of the bridge and dived down to the heavy traffic and then didn´t land in it? Hello. If he hadn´t known what a person with an ability could do, he would commit himself to the mental hospital just because of the explanations he was currently considering. But he knew what such a person could do so it was – as strange as it was – totally natural for him to think about these things.

But the thing with the car wasn´t even the strangest thing.

„A witness said she saw some guy ramming his fist through the body of another guy." he read off his notepad and reliable like a Swiss watch, Guster started to gag. Lassiter rolled his eyes and just went on. „Since there was no body on the bridge or anywhere near it, I assume that this didn´t kill the guy." he said, putting the word guy in airquotes. Eventually he packed the notepad away. „I know only one person that can survive such an injury." he spoke out what was on his mind.

„Considering of course that our witness didn´t smoke anything before she came here." Spencer mentioned.

„She´s not known for any drug abuse of any kind." Lassiter stated matter of factly.

Spencer threw him a disturbed face. „You actually checked that?" he cried.

„Of course I did."

„Okay, but what exactly is your suspicion?" O´Hara chipped in. But before he could even say it, she spoke it out herself. „Sylar is dead." she recalled.

„Is he?" Lassiter doubted this statement.

„We all saw him die." Juliet argued, appealing to his sense of reality.

„I saw him dead two times already in my life." Bennet told her, supporting Carlton´s suspicion. „This one doesn´t even count. I´ll never believe he´s dead. Not really."

„I saw this Dr. Suresh at the crime scene this morning." Guster spoke up all the sudden, as if he´d just remembered it.

„What?" Lassiter snapped.

„Dude. Why didn´t you say anything?" Shawn asked, not less shocked over that reveal.

„He said he was in town to visit his family." Gus explained. „Why should I report him? He´s not a suspect."

„Well, now he is." Lassiter lay it down to them after exchanging a glance with Bennet. „Let´s bring him in." he decided. „Maybe he knows something about our old friend Sylar."

„But how do we find him?" Juliet pointed out for consideration. „He´s not a registered citizen of Santa Barbara."

„I can tell you the plate of his car." Gus said.

„Seriously dude?" Shawn cried. „You don´t think of him as a suspect but you memorize his plate?"

„I memorize every plate that could be of interest, Shawn." Gus told his friend.

„Since when?"

„Since we started a certain business that deals with potentially lethal criminal cases."

„What do you mean with potentially lethal?"

„Did you see the bodies so far?"

„You two just stop it." Lassiter shushed the two bantering guys. „Guster, if you have the plate then give it to me." he demanded. „We have a suspect to catch."

...

Mohinder Suresh steered his car through the traffic, clinging to the wheel in a nervous manner. It had been barely an hour since Sylar had hung up on him, but that hour already felt like a week. He had seen the smoke that rose over the buildings barely twenty minutes after the killer had walked off and that had almost send his blood pressure up in the sky. The news now reported about an explosion and a major car crash on the highway. What the hell had Sylar done?

The streetlight went red and he stopped. Additional question: What was _he_ supposte to do now? As if on cue his cell phone started to ring. So help him god, if that was not Sylar … He answered it.

„Yeah."

„It´s me." the familiar voice said.

„What happened?" Mohinder demanded to know. „I saw the smoke of the explosion."

„Be glad that you weren´t there, Mohinder." Sylar told him and he actually sounded exhausted. „This guy is insane."

„Sounds as if you two match pretty good." the scientist was still angry.

„You have no idea what you´re talking about." Sylar replied unimpressed by the cynicism and that alone made Mohinder listen up. „I might be driven by a pathological hunger, but this guy is just mad." Sylar told him. „And I mean really mad. He has no reason for what he´s doing. None whatsoever. He just hates everything and everybody. I think he kinda worshipped me for what I was … but now he hates me too. He cares about nothing, Mohinder. Absolutely nothing."

The anger Mohinder had felt about Sylar only a minute ago was gone, replaced by genuine concern. When even Sylar was shaken by what he´d seen in this man´s eyes, how bad must it be? He opened his mouth to ask him for more information, but before he had a chance to do so, he noticed something on the street before him. There were two police officers in their car in the other street. They were looking at him and one of them spoke something into his radio.

„What the heck …?" he mumbled and looked around if there were any more of them. And indeed there was another police car coming around the corner just in the moment he looked at it. They were not driving fast but it looked suspiciously as if they were heading for him.

„Mohinder?" Sylar asked him confused. „What is it?"

Good question, the geneticist thought to himself.

„Hold the line for a second." he told Sylar and when the streetlight turned green, he steered the car around the bend to see if the police car would follow him. It did.

„Damn." he cursed.

„What is it?" Sylar asked frantically. „Is it Nobody?"

For a moment Mohinder was startled by the concern in Sylar´s voice. It sounded almost paranoid.

„How am I supposte to know that?" Mohinder asked. „I don´t know what he looks like."

„Then what is it?" Sylar demanded to know.

„The police is behind me." Mohinder informed him.

„What do they want?"

Mohinder kept his eyes trained on the black and white in his rearview mirror. That was something he would like to know as well.

„I´ll ask them." he then decided and stopped the car at the curbside.

The police stopped right behind him. Mohinder watched the two men get out and sighed. He was so focused on the two officers behind him that he didn´t notice the two detectives in front of him, until he heard the yell.

„Freeze!" the head detective and current chief of police demanded, his gun pointing at him. „Get out of the car!"

Mohinder jumped and raised his hands in the air.

„Mohinder?" he heard Sylar´s voice out of the cell phone in his hand. „What´s going on?"

The scientist held the phone to his ear, a gesture that didn´t slip the attention of the detectives Lassiter and O´Hara.

„I think they want to arrest me." he informed Sylar.

„What? What for?" the killer cried. „Mohinder."

But this time Mohinder wouldn´t give another answer, not to mention a more detailed explanation. He just finished the call with a short: „I´ve got to go." and hung up.

„Wait." Sylar cried into his end of the phone but the connection was gone. „Mohinder? Moh …" He shut it down in frustration and cursed, hitting his fist on a parked car. „Dammit!"

On the other end of the now finished call, Mohinder Suresh got out of his car to face the angry police detective.

„Is there a problem, detective?" he asked, the impersonated innocence. „Have I been too fast?"

„Funny guy." Lassiter growled. „I have some questions for you."

Mohinder just looked at him waiting. „Ask."

„I want to know where Sylar is." Lassiter demanded. „And don´t you dare to pretend that you don´t know what I´m talking about. Who was that on the phone?"

The scientist held the gaze of the detective stony-faced. Eventually he dropped his eyes in a let´s be reasonable manner.

„Maybe we shouldn´t talk about this in public." he suggested.

„Right." Lassiter agreed with a snarly grin. „You´re coming with us. Mohinder Suresh. You are under arrest. Let´s go."

Mohinder allowed him to lead him to his car, but couldn´t help but had to ask him. „And for what are you arresting me exactly?"

They´d reached the car and Lassiter turned him around, facing this still stoic face of the smart ass Indian guy.

„I can think of something if you like." he hissed. „Now get in the car before I decide that I want to cuff you." With that he shoved him on the backseat and closed the door.

Mohinder leaned back with a sigh. That was definitely not what he´d had in mind when they´d come here to Santa Barbara. How many things could go wrong in such a short time anyway? It didn´t matter. He was pretty sure they´d picked them all.

Halfway on their way to the police station his cell phone started to ring again. He jumped up and took it out to switch it off, but Lassiter was faster.

„Don´t you dare." he warned him after he´d hit the brakes. Behind him horns got honked but the detective was so totally focused on Mohinder and his cell phone by now that he didn´t even take any notice. Only Juliet looked a little shaken by that almost-crash they´d just caused.

„Is that him?" Lassiter demanded to know. „Put it on speaker phone."

Mohinder held his gaze once again with a blank one of his own. The phone in his hand kept ringing.

„Do it or I swear to god, I throw you in a hole that you´ll never leave again." Lassiter threatened.

Mohinder arched one brow but pressed the answer button anyway. „I´m on speaker phone." he spoke bluntly into the closed space of the car, never leaving the detective´s gaze.

Lassiter stared at him in disbelieve and Mohinder could tell that he was so close to draw his gun on him again. Still he didn´t blink. Should he try it.

For a while there was nothing but silence coming from the phone in his hand. But then Sylar´s voice asked: „And who´s with you?"

The reaction in the detectives faces was instantly. Juliet gasped in silence and Lassiter´s gaze went dark.

„Son of a bitch." he cursed. „I knew it." For a moment he tried to stare daggers at Mohinder but then he fixed the cell phone in his hand. „How did you survive, huh?" he asked Sylar.

„I really can´t answer that question, detective." was the calm answer. „Not because I don´t want to. I just don´t know it myself."

„I always knew you would come back here to keep going with your killing spree." Lassiter growled.

„It wasn´t him who did all those things." Mohinder spoked up now. „We just came here yesterday."

„You´re actually defending him now?" Lassiter cried.

„I´m just telling you the truth." the geneticist stated matter of factly. „We came here to help. And _I_ was against it."

„Yeah, as if." Lassiter snorted.

„How do you want to help?" Juliet asked now. „You know the man who did all this?"

„Juliet." Sylar´s voice came from the phone. „It´s so nice to hear your reasonable voice. No, I don´t know him. But I think after my encounter with him, I understand him now."

„Great." Lassiter huffed. „One crazy found the other."

His comment was followed by a pause. „Maybe it would be better to talk about it face to face and not on the phone." Sylar suggested after a while.

Mohinder watched how Lassiter´s face took on that snarly grin again. „Gladly." he said. „Come to the station and I take you in."

Mohinder expected a counterproposal from Sylar, but instead of doing so, the killer surprised not only him by saying: „All right. I´ll come over. Say in half an hour?"

„Sure." Lassiter replied, still speaking through his teeth. „I´m anxious to see you there."

Mohinder couldn´t believe what just happened in front of his eyes. Did Sylar really just agree to turn himself in?

„Are you sure about this?" he asked him uncertain.

„Yes." Sylar answered, not a bit uncertain himself. „Don´t worry, Mohinder. I trust detective Lassiter´s judgement. We´ll talk about it."

Again there was this almost predatory grin on the detective´s face. „Sure, we will." he said.

Mohinder was sure that Sylar had heard the smile in the detective´s voice. He just had to hear it. He was always so good in reading people. But when he spoke again, there was nothing in his voice that indicated any kind of suspicion.

„All right." he simply said. „I see you soon." And with that the phone was disconnected.

...

It was exactly thirty minutes later, almost to the second that the door to the police station was opened and Sylar walked in, just the way he´d promised it. Mohinder was still not ready to believe that this was really happening. Especially since he knew what would come next. It wouldn´t make any difference if he would try to call out for Sylar to watch out, even if he really would have wanted to. Things simply happened much too fast for that.

The killer stepped in through the door. Tasers were fired at him. He went down. And that was pretty much it.

Five of the ten men, Lassiter had assigned to do this tag and bag job, remained in a line where they were. The rest of them jumped forward and surrounded Sylar, their guns drawn and ready to fire in case the target should try to fight. He didn´t. Sylar was out for the count and wouldn´t have been able to struggle, even if he´d wanted to.

The whole thing was over in less than a minute.


	13. Captured

**Captured**

Never in his life Noah Bennet would have thought that he would be glad for the fact that the Company was back in business again. But over the course of this last week it truly had proven to be a great help to have it here. First it had provided them with a place to test how to take down Nobody and now it had provided them with what they needed to keep this other monster contained.

Lassiter´s men had been able to tag him but to bag him and to keep him in a cell they hadn´t had the necessary tools. The Company had. And now at least one serial killer was save behind bars. Or better behind a glass wall, strapped to a stretcher with a hose in his nose. And as soon as the medics were ready, this hose would be replaced by a more permanent infusion tool, somewhere at the back of his head. Sylar wouldn´t come back out of this cell to see the sunlight for a very long time.

Noah opened the door that led out of the cell sector and stepped out into the outer office. And immediately found himself in the middle of a heated argument.

„ … did what we had to do." Lassiter shouted angrily at the two other men.

„That … was not necessary, detective." the scientist cried back, still angry about that stubborn behavior of this man, that just refused to think reasonable. „You´re wasting valuably resources on him while your true danger is still out there. Sylar´s not the enemy this time."

„His name is Sylar and he came to my station." Lassiter summarized, telling him his idea of the word reasonable. „More I don´t need to know."

„He didn´t come to fight." Mohinder replied. „What you´re doing is irrational. There is a man out there who´s much more dangerous. He´s planning a slaughter. No one will be save anymore and next time he attacks it might hit someone closer to you than a random detective."

At this Lassiter gave up on trying to argue and just walked in on the geneticist. Mohinder didn´t skip back and in the end it needed Peter to step between them to keep them from jumping at each others throats.

„I´d never believed that I would see the day when you stand up for Sylar, doctor." Bennet said.

„I´m not standing up for Sylar." Mohinder replied fiercely. „I´m stating facts. The real culprit is still out there and he won´t stop now just because you´ve arrested Sylar."

„He´s right." Peter supported him. „Maybe we should start thinking about other options."

„Like what?" Lassiter snapped. „Actually considering to let this man run free now that we finally have him?"

„When Mohinder says that Sylar came her to help, I believe him." the younger man stated.

„Sure." Lassiter snorted. „You also believe in the easter bunny. And I thought Spencer was the biggest idiot I ever met."

„Think about it, detective." Peter insisted. „All our own tries to stop this man have failed. We didn´t accomplish anything. Quiet the contrary, he even caused more damage and more victims since we started. Things will get worse if we don´t find a way to stop him very soon."

„We´ll find a way." Lassiter assured him.

„Ah, yeah?" Peter replied. „Which way? Huh? Tell me your plan. Sylar is the most powerful human being I know …"

„Another reason not to let him out anymore." Lassiter talked over him. „He´s a murderer."

„He could stop Nobody." Peter insisted. „He might be the only one who _can_ stop him."

„He´s right." Bennet heard himself say, much to the detective´s surprise.

„What?" Lassiter cried. „Are you serious? You were the one who told me how dangerous this guy is. That we should rather kill him than ever trust him."

„And my opinion about him hasn´t changed." Bennet affirmed, still a little surprised himself about the fact that he considered Peter´s point of view. „But Peter is right." he stated. „Sylar _is_ the only one who could match Nobody and in our current situation, we would be more than just stupid to ignore that asset."

„I´m not going to cut him a deal." Lassiter stated in a low tone. „Forget it."

Noah lay his head askew. „If he´s really willing to help us with this …"

„He is." Mohinder assured him. „Ask him. Talk to him, you´ll see that he means it."

For a moment there was pure silence between them all. Noah could feel the reluctance in his police friend´s mind. But in the end even Carlton had to give in against the majority and start considering what they were suggesting. He still looked reserved though when he nodded his head.

„All right." he said. „I´ll t talk to him. But I´ll do it alone. If he doesn´t convince me … he stays where he is. And that forever."

...

There was a sound in that empty allay. A thudding sound. It came again and again. First it had been unsteady but by now it was almost regular. And it had changed its sound a little since it had started. By now it sounded wet, every hit accompanied by the angry grunting of the hitter.

Nobody had lost count on how often he´d punched this asshole by now. It had been a pizza deliverer who´d had the bad luck to take a short cut through this very allay. Nobody had dragged him off his bike and had beaten the living crap out of him. Literally. By now the guy didn´t even look like a human anymore. And still Nobody didn´t feel better. He was still ready to punch him to hell. But what good was that for? There was barely something left to punch on that asshole anyway.

He let go of him and looked at his arms. They were covered in blood up to his elbows. But this time the blood on his skin didn´t make him feel better. He just wanted to punch something. And he did. He hit the wall with his fist. Again and again. After a while there was a hole in that wall and he stopped.

No. Not like this. If he wanted to smash a building, he should do it with something more productive than a random backyard wall. He should do something to really leave an impression. On all of them, so they would see who really made the rules.

And now that he thought about it … that was actually a good idea.

He should have known that there was nothing good in this world. Sylar had betrayed him. Sylar. The man for whom he´d done all these things, the man he´d wanted to honor with these things. He had talked as if he were one of them. He had chosen the other side. He had betrayed him. He.

Never in his life had Nobody felt so betrayed like in this moment. He´d worshipped this man. And now? Sylar had chosen the other side. He wanted to be his enemy. All right then. So be it. If he wanted to go down with them, he would go down with them.

Vermin. Nothing but vermin. All of them. And Sylar had truly chosen to be one of them. Oh, how much Nobody wanted to crush them all. Crush the vermin and show them how low they really were. And now that he thought about it … that was actually a good idea. He even knew how he would do it.

Oh, they would never forget that day, he would make sure of it. They would remember it as the day when Nobody´s wrath started to come over the world. And Santa Barbara would only be the beginning of it.

...

The killer was strapped to a stretcher, like a patient in a mental hospital. There was a hose in his nose and an IV standing next to him. His eyes were open and when he heard the door, he turned his head aside a little. One wide eye looked at Lassiter but other than that there was no movement. The sedativa didn´t allow any more.

Lassiter pushed a button and made the stretcher move upwards so the killer could see him. But even more important for him was, that he could see the killer´s eyes. For what he wanted to know he needed to see him clearly. When the stretcher was almost in an upright position, he stopped its movement. Sylar seemed dizzy but after a few moments he seemed to get a grip again.

Lassiter couldn´t help but was strangely reminded of Silence of the Lambs seing him like that. Strapped to something that easily could have been a sack barrow, standing in a cell that had no bars but a glass wall … the only thing that was missing was the facemask.

The detective cursed in silence and blamed Spencer and his stupid eighties and nineties references for this unhelpful thought. Sylar was looking at him and he obviously waited for him to start the talk. Lassiter was only too glad to do him the favor. This time he had the upper hand and he intended to keep it that way. No matter what Noah and the others said. This son of a bitch would never convince him about anything. He was the lowest scum that there was and nothing would change that opinion. Ever.

„Tell me one thing." Lassiter demanded. „Why did you really come back here?"

Sylar seemed to need a moment to understand the question, but then he answered.

„I saw the news." he said in a sluggish voice. „About the attack at the station. I was worried about Shawn and Juliet."

„So you were worried." Lassiter repeated, not buying it a single bit.

„I thought I could help." Sylar told him. „Catch that guy. He was doing these things in my name, so I was responsible."

Lassiter just smiled. „I don´t believe you." he said it straight.

Sylar smiled a groggy smile and nodded slightly. „That´s all right." he said. „I didn´t expect you to. That´s not in your nature. Never negotiating with criminals. Especially not with a murderer like me."

Lassiter stared at this killer in utter disbelieve. That was not what he´d expected him to say. He would have expected him to come up with all kinds of ridiculous arguments to prove to him that he was wrong about him, that he was a good guy now with good intentions. But instead he´d frankly used the word murderer to describe himself. And he seemed to know very well that he wouldn´t be able to convince him, Lassiter, about anything.

„Then why did you come to the station, when you knew that?" the detective now asked him startled. „You can´t tell me that you didn´t expect this to happen."

Sylar smiled weakly. „Of course I knew that." he said. „I knew it before you even suggested I should come to the station."

„Then why did you come?" Lassiter demanded to know. „You thought you could overpower us?"

„No. Be honest, detective. Did I even try? We both know I could have."

Now Lassiter didn´t understand anything anymore. „Then why …?"

„Because someone had to make the first move." Sylar talked over him. „You see? Mohinder was right. I can´t do this all on my own. If I´d try I wouldn´t be able to stop myself. Because of the hunger. This man you seek has an ability …"

„We know that by now."

„I would be tempted by it." Sylar explained. „I wouldn´t be able to control it if I faced him alone. I felt it this last time already."

„You are aware of the fact that you´re telling me to keep you locked up with that." Lassiter mentioned.

„No." Sylar denied this. „I could help you stop him."

„Why should I believe you?"

„Because it´s true. You tried everything you could. But he´s still too strong. That´s not your fault, Nobody is simply too powerful, too invincible. And too insane to care about anything. I know how that feels. I was like that."

Lassiter gave the killer in the cell a face. He´d just proven to him that his first opinion about him had been right after all. No further argument when the killer confessed that he was a killer that could never stop being a killer. Case closed.

Sylar seemed to read all this in his face though and of course he shook his head.

„When I flew into that black hole, I thought … I _knew_ that I was going to die." he told him. „Yet I didn´t. I don´t know why. Maybe I was spared so I could come back here and stop this madman. I´d like to believe that. That there is a reason for me to still be alive. I´d like to believe that I´ve been given a new chance. To start over. To give new purpose to my life. There is enough evil in this world already. Nobody proves it." He looked at Lassiter with the most disturbing and intense gaze Lassiter thought he´d ever seen. „I can stop him, detective." he now told him. „Please, let me try. Let me help."

For a moment, Lassiter was unsure what to think. „How am I supposte to know if I can trust you?" he asked him.

And again he was surprised with a response that he hadn´t expected. Instead of telling him all the ridiculous reasons why he should trust him, Sylar just shook his head as if he wasn´t sure himself.

„Just trust your instincts, detective." he said. „It´ll give you the answer."

Lassiter looked in the eyes of the killer before him and just didn´t know what to say. He didn´t even know what to think anymore. If there was something that he hated more than being tricked, then it was being tricked and not feeling like he was being tricked.

But how could that not be a trick? This was Sylar, after all. The killer. The one that had tried to kill his partner. The one who had killed dozens and dozens of other innocent people, some of them just for fun. But still, what he saw in this man´s eyes right now, seemed almost … honest. Lassiter was confused.

He´d come here to make a decision – although he´d thought the decision had been clear long before he even walked in here – and now he was far too confused to even think properly. But then something new happened and the decision was taken out of his hand. Almost. The door went open and his partner rushed in, closely followed by Spencer and Guster.

„Carlton." she cried.

All three of them were visibly on the edge but when they saw Sylar bound to this upright stretcher, they all halted for a very startled moment.

„Wow." Gus exclaimed.

„Hello … Dr. Lecter?" Shawn said.

Sylar smiled. „Hello, Shawn." he greeted.

„What is it, O´Hara?" Lassiter demanded to know and gratefully his partner came back to her senses at once.

„We just got a call that someone broke into the military base." she told him. „There´s no confirmed identification of who it was but …"

„It was Nobody, of course." Shawn cried as if they´d been over this more than just once.

„Who else would it be?" Guster agreed with him.

„He killed three soldiers." Juliet went on. „Much more are wounded."

Next to her Shawn was jumping up and down by now, obviously not okay with that detailed report she gave.

„He stole a tank." he cried out the real essential information. „We need to do something."

„He´s on the way to the city." Juliet added, much calmer but not less concerned.

„Son of a bitch." Lassiter cursed.

„You´ve got to let me out." Sylar urged once again, now obviously more awake than he´d been before as if these new information had worn out some of the drugs in his system. But that was actually something Lassiter could understand. He felt the rush of it too.

„I can stop him." Sylar now repeated and held Lassiter´s gaze urgently. „I can put an end to this, detective."

„We don´t have the time to stand here and chat." Shawn urged them all even more. „Lassie. What are we gonna do?"

Lassiter threw one last glance at the killer in the cell. „Get the cars." he then ordered. „We´re moving out."

...

The inner city of Santa Barbara, usually a place where people strolled along the street and enjoyed the sunlight, had turned into a warzone within only a few minutes. It wasn´t hard to make such a change happen that fast when a tank was rolling through the streets, shooting projectiles into shop windows once in a while and crashing cars under its heavy weight.

People were running away, screaming for someone to help and save them, but no one was coming. There was no police car around that could do anything. Not anymore. The two black and whites that had crossed the way of this tank, had been blown up and were now burning in the street it had left behind.

Now the tank drove up and over another car, crushing its roof and sending dozens of shards of glass into the street when the windows burst. Metal shrieked and wheels exploded. The tank just drove on as if it had crossed a little stone on the ground.

The street ahead was clear, the people that had been running away, were already gone, hidden or simply running somewhere else. But still the street wasn´t completely deserted. There were three cars blocking the way. A blue Crown Vick, a silver Nissan and a small blue Toyota Echo. The passengers that belonged to those cars were standing around their vehicles as if a combined line of them could actually stop this tank from driving right through them.

Of course it wouldn´t and they knew it. But something else would. Someone else.

When the muzzle of the tank aimed at them and shot, Sylar held up his hand and stopped the projectile in midair just before it could reach them. Without letting it out of his sight, he raised two fingers of his other hand and the tank, so far unstoppable and mighty, was raised off the ground and made a perfect somersault. It landed on its roof with a loud crushing noise right in the middle of the street. The other members of this roadblock could actually feel the impact in their soles, running up the bones of their legs.

After the tank was lying still, Sylar turned his attention back to the projectile before him. With a gesture of his hand, he sent it flying up into the air until it was high above them in the sky. He kept his eyes trained on it, his hand over his head as if he wanted to pick it off like an apple from the tree. Then he closed his fist and after a few seconds spread his fingers wide. The projectile exploded in the air.

„Holy crap." Shawn cried and ducked down. „Seriously dude?"

Sylar only smiled at him.

Peter and Suresh dismissed the whole thing and started to run. The tank was still dangerous no matter in what position. The tank gun was already moving again to find a new target. The two Specials grabbed it and with their combined more than average human strength, they bowed it around until it was no threat anymore.

Quickly and with their weapons drawn, Lassiter, Juliet and Bennet approached the tank, taking positions around it like a well trained team. Shawn and Gus stood between them like audience in a live action show. And in some way they were.

The two Specials stepped back from the tank now. Sylar waited for the signal and when Bennet nodded at him, he moved his hand and made the tank turn around again, putting it back on its feet. Immediately after it sat down, Peter threw Mohinder the gas grenade and the scientist took one strong leap to get up at the tank.

Sylar hurried to follow him. It was not a good idea to let him open that hatch on his own. If Nobody would come out and fight, he would need help.

„Careful." he told him.

Mohinder glanced up at him, his hands already on the hatch. They didn´t need to say a word, to come to an agreement. Sylar held out his hand, preparing to open the hatch telekinetically and waited for the scientist to pull the pin of the grenade. When he did, he opened the hatch and Mohinder threw the smoking item into the tank. Sylar closed it, leaning over the hatch to keep it closed, just in case Nobody should try to get out.

For a while nothing happened. They waited, giving the gas time to take out the man inside of that tank. It shouldn´t need too long to accomplish that. It was only tear gas but it was a small space in there. The more surprising it was that there wasn´t even a knock coming from the inside.

Sylar and Mohinder exchanged a tensed glance.

„What is that?" Lassiter asked. „Why is he not trying to get out?"

„Maybe he´s already unconscious." Juliet guessed.

„Or he wants us to think that so he can surprise us when we open the hatch." Bennet argued, never letting the tank out of his sight.

„He´s only so strong." Peter recalled. „You remember the tests. It will effect him."

„Except if he would have a mask in there." Bennet mentioned.

„A tank is too tight for a gas mask to fit in there." Lassiter replied and threw an uncertain glance at Juliet. „Right?"

She could only shrug. Just because her brother was a soldier he expected her to know such things but she didn´t. They all looked at the tank again. Waiting. Shawn was probably the only one who took the time to have a look around instead. And that was a good thing, otherwise he might have missed a very important detail.

„Wow, guys, this isn´t good." he cried and immediately raised his hand to his temple. „I´m getting something."

„Spencer, not now." Lassiter growled, trying to keep his eyes focused on the tank.

Sylar exchanged another glance with Mohinder and he saw the same uncertainty in the scientist´s eyes. Something was wrong and they both knew it by now. Sylar attempted to open the hatch.

„No, I really think you want to hear that." Shawn insisted and when Sylar opened the hatch, he shouted: „HE´S NOT IN THERE!"

The smoke inside the tank made it hard to see very much but Sylar didn´t need to see. He just knew that Shawn was right. The tank was empty.

„He´s right." he turned around to the others. „He isn´t in there."

Lassiter took his gun down. „What the hell?"

„I sense that his real target wasn´t the city." Shawn cried, his hand on his temple.

„Then what the hell was his target?" Lassiter demanded to know.

Instead of answering the question, Shawn only turned around and looked ahead at the street signs. One of them read hospital to the right, another one Santa Barbara Zoo to the left and the third one read: Chemical factory, straight ahead. And it was surely not the Zoo Nobody was heading for.

„Son of a bitch." Lassiter cursed and rushed back to his car.

Within only twenty seconds they were all back in the cars and driving down the street that led to the factory.

„What is this factory doing?" Lassiter asked while he was rushing down the street.

„Ehm … insecticides." Juliet answered him.

Lassiter cursed and then grabbed his radio. „This is chief Lassiter." he barked into it. „Send a unit to the city to take care of that tank. We´re on our way to …" But before he could say any more, Bennet´s hand shot forward to stop him.

„Don´t tell them." he cried.

„What?"

„If you send a bunch of police cars to the factory, you practically ask Nobody to blow the damn thing up at once." the Company man explained. „If you don´t want him to know that we´re coming …"

„He knows that we´re coming." Lassiter cried. „He would be pretty stupid if he wouldn´t expect that."

„But so far he thinks he´s ahead of us." Noah insisted on his argument. „And if you don´t want him to poison the city with a cloud of bug extermination, you should let him believe that as long as possible."

„That won´t buy us more than a few minutes if it comes to it." Juliet pointed out.

„If it comes to it, a few minutes might make the essential difference." was all Bennet said.

Over the radio the voice of the officer called out: „Chief Lassiter? Come in, please. Chief? Where are you going?"

Lassiter hesitated, looking at Bennet in the rearview mirror. The Company man looked back at him with an intense gaze that urged him to listen to his suggestions.

„We´re going to follow a lead." Lassiter reported at last. „I let you know more as soon as I´m there. Over and out." With that he switched the radio off and hung it back into its place.

Again he met the gaze of the Company man in the mirror.

„I hope you know what you´re doing." he said.


	14. Toxic

**Toxic**

There was an alarm at the plant. The front entrance had been smashed as if Nobody had had a second tank and at least three people were lying on the ground, bleeding. One body had been covered with a blanket. The two men left standing were desperately trying to get something out of their phone, that was astoundingly still working, despite the pitiful condition of the box itself.

All over the place there were people running to get out of the plant, flooding the street and the parking lot in front of the plant. Motors were started and cars drove away as fast as they could. They had initiated an evacuation and that alone was a bad sign. It meant that they had given up the factory. The only cars that didn´t try to get away from the plant, were the three cars that just arrived.

Lassiter stopped right in front of the main entrance and jumped out, wielding his badge as if it were a second gun, his whole entourage following him behind. O´Hara and Bennet, his own personal two Specials and the three guest starring Specials, Suresh, Petrelli and Sylar.

„What happened?" he demanded to know when he reached the gate.

„This guy." the man answered with a trembling voice. „He´s crazy. He just came in here and threw grenades at us. Mr. Tanner there tried to keep him from entering the place and he just …"

Lassiter didn´t need a better description. He only needed to see the sick face of the man before him and the blood on the blanket to get a picture.

„Where did he go?" he demanded to know.

The man of course pointed his shaky finger at the front door that led into the plant. The three Specials didn´t wait any longer and were on their way there. Lassiter looked after them and cursed in silence. No way would he allow them to go in there and handle that all by themselves. He was chief of police – interim but that didn´t matter. He was responsible for this mission and he would not stay behind, dammit.

„Where is the plant manager?" he demanded to know.

„Mr. Tanner there _is_ the plant manager." the man cried and by now he really actually started to cry. „Was." he corrected himself. „I´m just trying to get the people out of there."

„Crap." Lassiter mumbled.

„All right then." Bennet took over. „Can you bring us to the control room then?"

„Our guys already try everything they can to stop it." the man told them.

„Stop what?" Shawn and Gus cried unisono.

The broken man only looked at them with a pale face. „As far as I understood it, this guy somehow damaged two of our safety valves." he told them what he´d heard over the telephone. „I have no idea how he did this. It can´t have been another grenade, if he had thrown one of these there would have been an explosion long ago …"

„What´s going to happen?" Juliet, Shawn and Gus cried all together, now out of patience.

„If the pressure can´t be stopped, there will be an atmospheric release." the man explained to them. „We have highly toxic insecticides in there, the whole city would be …"

„All right that´s it." Lassiter cocked his gun and the small man jumped and hid behind his pole. „Someone bring us to the control room." the detective demanded. „Right now."

...

Inside the facility the three Specials were in the process of tracking the way Nobody had taken through the hallways. It wasn´t hard to find the way. He´d left a clear trace of destruction. Not even the pulsing red light of the alarm could disguise that. After a while they found a man lying on the ground. Peter went down and checked on him. He was dead. And not just him. A few feet further there was another man. His head was turned the wrong way.

„Son of a bitch." Peter exhaled. „We have to find him. Quickly."

A crashing sound and a scream came from ahead and made them halt. But only for a second. As soon as they heard the sounds of an MP getting fired, the three of them ran until they reached the next corner. When they peeked around it they saw an open door a little further down the hallway.

„That´s him." Peter said and started to move. But before he could even pass the corner, Sylar held him back.

„I should go." he said.

„What?"

„It´s my responsibility."

„But I have his ability." Peter argued. „I can´t get hurt. What are you talking about responsibility?"

„How long are we gonna stand here and discuss that?" Mohinder cried and was in the process of passing the two men to head for the door himself. Sylar grabbed his arm.

„You are the only one that can´t go in there." he hissed at him. „Peter is impenetrable. I can heal. You can do neither."

„Wha …? Are you kidding me?" the scientist cried. „Let go of me."

Peter didn´t wait any longer for them to figure out who should go and who shouldn´t and just ran for the door. Mohinder was right. This whole discussion was ridiculous.

„Peter." Sylar cried and cursing he followed him.

The young hot-head just busted the door open and immediately came under fire. He got thrown back into the door violently, too much taken by surprise to even think of resistance. He might have been right about the fact that he wouldn´t be effected by the bullets, but the impact was too much for him anyway. It was as if he got nailed to the door by that steady rain of bullets. Sylar could hear Nobody´s laughter from inside the room.

The killer had reached the door now. He took one more second though to reach out his hand and shove Mohinder back down the hall with his telekinesis.

„Son of a bitch." the geneticist cried angrily before the impact of him hitting the ground pushed the air out of his lungs.

It wouldn´t keep him out for long Sylar knew that, but it had to do for at least ten to twenty seconds. And if things went well, he wouldn´t need much more. He entered the room right after Peter … and had to learn that things wouldn´t go that smooth after all.

...

Lassiter and his team had reached the control room by now. Five men were sitting on their terminals, two of them constantly jumping up and running to another console, checking data or entering some new ones.

„Pressure´s still building." one of them cried. „The valves don´t respond."

„Try again." another one, probably the second manager demanded.

„Nothing. They must be broken or something."

„Does anyone has the damn Code yet?" the second manager cried desperately.

„No."

„Who are you?" one of them had finally spotted the uninvited guests.

„Chief Lassiter, S.B.P.D." Lassiter introduced himself, stepping forward.

„We´re here to stop a catastrophe." Shawn added in the same tone that Lassiter had used and placed himself right next to him.

„Well, you´re just in time." the guy answered and was already on his way back to his place. „But I´m afraid you are at the wrong place. You should go out there and stop that son of a bitch who tries to destroy our factory."

„We already have people out there." Lassiter informed the man. „They are taking care of him. Tell me what´s your status."

„Look around." the man said with a gesture into the room. „That´s our status. We tried everything we could to shut the valves but the pressure just keeps rising."

Lassiter was in the process of shouting some orders, when one of the geeks suddenly cried out.

„Oh, shit."

„What?" his colleague cried back.

„A third valve just failed." the shit-crier explained. „At the primary storage tank."

„Shut it down." the second manager demanded and rushed over to him.

„What, the valve?"

„No, the tank. Do it or we have a whole city under a cloud of pesticides."

The shit-crier did what his supervisor had told him but then he shook his head. „No response." he said.

„That´s impossible." the second manager insisted but the datas on the other man´s screen told him that it was very possible.

„Someone has to be in the primary tank room." the shit-crier guessed. „That´s the only explanation."

„Who would be stupid enough to go there during an emergency like this?"

Lassiter and the others knew the answer to that question.

„Nobody." Shawn spoke it out.

...

Sylar rushed into the room and immediately the gunfire that had been on Peter so far was switched over to him, perforating him like a tea strainer. He had just enough time to see the smoking console and Nobody who stood right next to it with his MP in hand. Now that his fire was on Sylar, Peter was free to attack. And he did. Within three seconds he´d reached Nobody and knocked the weapon out of his hands, pushing him backwards until they hit the uncovered cables that were marked with a big sign that read: high voltage.

Sylar groaned and went down to the ground, bleeding from at least two dozen shot wounds. On the other side of the room, Nobody started to scream when the electricity ran through his body. Sylar leaned against the wall and urged his body to heal from those damn bullets he´d caught. Behind him he heard the clacking sounds of the bullets dropping to the ground one by one. He was halfway through the process when Mohinder rushed in. The gaze he threw him when he saw him sitting there in this pitiful condition, spoke loud and clear: Yeah, sure, you can handle this so much better.

Without saying a word the scientist hurried away, leaving the killer behind to deal with himself. Sylar´s first thought was, that he was going to try to help Peter. But instead of doing this, Mohinder went to the smoking console. The broken cables spit some sparks when he tried to work on it though and he had to skip back. There was surely not much that he could do from that console to stop the factory from going kablowee.

Behind him, Nobody had given up on the screaming in pain business and grabbed Peter´s collar instead. He swirled him around and returned the favour of having to stand the agonizing pain of the high voltage. Now it was Peter who screamed. But Nobody didn´t bother with his attacker as long as Peter had done it. He just punched him in the face with all his fury and then dropped him. Now that Peter was sufficiently out, Nobody dismissed him and dived for his gun instead.

Sylar guessed what would come next and hurried to get up. His wounds were healed by now and he reached Mohinder´s side just in time. Nobody had pulled the trigger and if Sylar had been just a little too slow, the good doctor would have been perforated by at least a dozen bullets. But he hadn´t been too slow and now the bullets were frozen solid in the air, just a few inches before him.

Mohinder swirled around and threw a startled glance at Sylar and the bullets. But his surprise lasted only for a second, which was exactly the amount of time he could afford for something like being startled. After that second had passed, he immediately ducked down and dived under the frozen bullets. He reached an unprepared Nobody and rammed his shoulder into his stomach. Once again Nobody´s back hit the high voltage cables, but this time he had no trouble at all to push his attacker back. Of course not. Mohinder might have surprised him with his attack but he had not half of the strength in his body than Nobody had.

The scientist stumbled backwards and Nobody followed, his gun ready to fire. But instead of shooting the geneticist, he fired at Sylar, who was in the process of throwing himself at him, obviously not as surprising as he´d hoped. The killer was thrown to the ground one more time, again bleeding like he´d been slaughtered out of necessity. He coughed, trying not to choke on his own blood. God, that was not his day.

He could see Nobody how he aimed his gun at Mohinder and pulled the trigger. It happened too fast for Sylar to even compute until it was over. The scientist flinched. But there were no bullets coming out of the gun. It was empty. Nobody had fired his last bullets to keep Sylar from interfering. Now he shook the weapon in anger, yelling out his frustration in the process and then just threw it away.

Mohinder, who probably thought that using the moment of distraction would give him an advantage, attacked him again.

„No." Sylar brought out, knowing what would happen next, but his voice was still too thin to be heard. One or two of these damn bullets must have hit his lung.

It was too late anyway. Nobody had already pushed the weaker man back and against the wall. A hose was running up that wall and when Mohinder tried to fight, Nobody just grabbed his arm and pressed it against the hot metal. Sylar could hear the sizzling sound when the heat ate its way through the fabric of Mohinder´s shirt. And then he heard the scream.

„No." Sylar yelled and attempted to reached out his hand but an unexpected pain in his shoulder shot up into his brain, making him cry out in pain himself. Heal, for gods sake, he begged. Heal.

Nobody´s eyes started to glow at the pain he caused. He threw a glance over his shoulder at Sylar and this glowing increased even more. Have a good look his eyes said. And then he turned back to Mohinder and raised his hand to punch him in the stomach. Just the way he´d done it with Sylar on that bridge.

...

„I have access to the surveillance system." Gus cried all the sudden and startled everybody in the room. No one had payed attention to him so he had been able to fiddle with the console pretty much as he´d pleased. Now that the second plant manager saw what he´d done, he jumped up from his place.

„You what?" he cried.

„Dude, how do you know how to do things like that?" Shawn asked amazed.

„I studied computer systems like these after we crushed C.E.R.N." Gus told him. „Just in case, you know."

„Dude, this is really insane." Shawn exclaimed.

„I know." Gus replied and held out his fist for Shawn to bump it.

„Who allowed you to mess with our system?" the second manager cried, obviously not that happy about the liberties Gus had taken. „We´re in the middle of a terrorist attack."

„This man down there is a terrorist right, but not the kind you might expect." Bennet said and stepped in front of the monitor Gus had activated. It showed them Suresh who was just in the process of getting killed by this murderer Nobody.

They saw Nobody preparing to punch his fist through the belly of the scientist. Juliet gasped and Shawn and Gus closed their eyes, not wanting to see something as gory as this. But then Nobody was attacked and let go of the scientist. Peter had thrown himself at the murderer and the two of them started to struggle. Suresh was forgotten and went down to the ground, holding his arm which was obviously in great pain.

„Where is that?" Bennet wanted to know.

„That´s the primary tank room." Gus and the second plant manager answered unisono.

„And this is the console that should control the valves." the manager added on his own. „Dammit. It´s damaged. No wonder we don´t get any access to the system."

„Can you do anything against it?" Lassiter asked.

„From here? No way. Somebody would have to do it from in there."

...

„Mohinder!" Sylar cried and hurried over to the injured man.

„I´m all right." the geneticist assured him and was obviously lying. He held his arm up as if it could burn the rest of him too if he let it come too close, hissing through his gritted teeth. Sylar took his shoulders, intending to help him up. But then he saw in how much pain Mohinder was and decided to better let it be.

On the other side of the room Peter cried out in pain. When they turned to the two opponents, they saw Peter lying on the ground, unconscious once again. Nobody turned around to them, a glimmer in his eyes like a predator that had tasted blood. Sylar knew that gaze. He´d seen it in his own reflection for so many years that he had no choice but to recognize it. When Nobody lunged forward, he reached out his hand and shoved him backwards until he hit the wall. The impact caused the steel to dent.

Nobody spotted a hose in reaching distance and grabbed it, ripping it off the wall as if it were a branch on an old tree. Sylar moved his fingers and ripped it out of his hand again, sending it flying through the room. Nobody yelled in his anger and tried to grab something else. Sylar waved his finger a second time and moved Nobody away from the wall, letting him hover in midair with nothing to grab but the air itself.

„Not so strong anymore, now are we?" he asked him. When Nobody started to struggle against his invisible grip, he just smiled. „Don´t bother." he said. „I kinda have experience with strong guys that try to fight me."

He threw a glance at the geneticist who was still sitting on the ground. A groan from the other side of the room made them both look around. Peter had woken up again and was currently struggling back to his feet.

„This isn´t over, Sylar." Nobody cried. „On some point you have to let me down and then I´ll get you. You and everybody I can get my hands on."

„I don´t think this is gonna happen." the voice of Noah Bennet came out of a loudspeaker all the sudden.

„Noah?" Peter asked, rubbing his head in confusion. He spoke up into the air since he couldn´t spot the loudspeaker.

„We can see you, Peter." Noah told him.

„Hey guys." Shawn´s voice cried cheerily out of the loudspeaker and right after him, Gus was calling out as well. „Great show so far." Shawn praised. „Super on the action part, really. Only the bad guy is a little too cliché I think."

„You know that´s right." Gus agreed. „Kindoffa two dimensional character."

„Right." Shawn chuckled. „Seriously. All that shouting and spitting, when he realised that he lost. That´s so eighties."

„Double right."

„Would you two stop it?" Lassiter hissed in the background but of course that was not enough to make the fake psychic shut his mouth.

Peter exchanged a confused glance with Mohinder, while Shawn and Lassiter argued about how appropriate interruptions like these were in a field operation that potentially threatened the survival of the whole city. But the geneticist had enough to do with his burning arm to even pay attention to any of this. He even seemed grateful for the short break this banter allowed him.

Sylar just smiled and after another minute of banter between Shawn and Lassie, which ended with Lassiter threatening to shoot Shawn, if he wouldn´t shut up any time soon, he just closed his eyes and began to laugh.

„You just laugh." Nobody cried, not a bit amused. „Some of the people I killed have died laughing."

„Oh, not me, believe me." Sylar chuckled.

„You can´t hold me here forever." Nobody repeated. „And as soon as you let me down, I will kill you. All of you."

„Again, I don´t think this is gonna happen." Bennet spoke up again. „Peter. Would you have a look at the valve to your right? That´s the wheel at the hose over there."

Peter turned around and found what the Company man was talking about. „What about it?" he asked.

But instead of Bennet´s voice, they heard Gus´ excited cry, explaining to them: „You need to open it. That´ll release the pressure from the primary tank and …"

„Would you mind, please?" Bennet interrupted him calmly.

There was a small pause. „Oh, yes, of course." Gus replied humbly. „I´m sorry. Please go on."

„He´s right." Bennet went on. „The plant´s second manager told us that this is the only way to keep the tank from exploding." Peter was in the process of grabbing the wheel and turn it, when Bennet hurried to add: „But that means the room you are in will be flooded with the toxic gas."

Peter halted an inch before his hands actually touched the wheel.

„Then what …?" he asked.

„Remember the tests we made?" Bennet asked him and Peter turned around to the camera. He needed a moment to catch up with Noah´s idea but then he understood. His gaze searched the floating Nobody and a smile appeared on his face.

„Sure." he said. „I remember."

„Then I suggest you get the hell out of there." Bennet said.

„But you heard what he said." Peter recalled. „As soon as he lets him down, he´ll smash the door."

„No, he won´t." Sylar answered before Noah or anyone else could give a response. „Because I won´t let him down."

Peter and Mohinder stared at the killer in surprise. So did Nobody. So did everyone who was watching this.

„Are you sure about this?" Peter asked.

Sylar just smiled at him. „Leave the room, Peter." was all he said and faced Nobody again, who looked down to him with a dark gaze. „I hold him."

Peter exchanged a glance with Mohinder. The geneticist seemed as uncomfortable with that idea as he was. But Sylar was right. This was the only way to do this. And the safest way for that matter. Sylar would survive this no matter how unpleasant it would be. And it was his decision.

„All right." he then said and padded Sylar´s shoulder.

The killer nodded at him and at Mohinder and then he faced Nobody again, who´d started to rage like the madman that he was, desperately trying to get free and out of this invisible grip. Unsuccessfully. All his strength was useless against something that he couldn´t grab. Sylar knew that. As soon as Peter and Mohinder were out of the room and the door safely closed behind them, he went over to the valve and started to turn the wheel.

„So it´s once again only you and me." he said. „How ironic, huh?"

„Don´t do that." Nobody cried. „You don´t have to listen to them. We can still rule the world. Together. We´re one of a kind, Sylar. These insects out there should fear our wrath."

Sylar threw a sharp glance up at Nobody. „We´re not of the same kind." he let him know. „And if you don´t want me to kill you right away, you better not talk like that about my friends."

„You tell him, dude." Shawn cheered over the loudspeaker and made them both look around startled.

„They´re not your friends." Nobody replied as if this was the most stupid thing he´d ever heard. „They´re simply using you. Why do you think they just left you in here with me?"

Sylar didn´t give a response anymore. He just kept turning the wheel. A sizzling sound came out of the valve and after a few more turns, the air it released became white. Gas started to fill the room. Sylar skipped back from the hose to not to get the full blast all at once. He had to stay conscious until Nobody was out after all.

„You think you´re one of them?" Nobody asked him now. „You´re not. They will never accept you. They use you to get me but as soon as you turn your back on them, they´ll stab you. For them you´re nothing but a monster. A thing that needs to be exterminated. Think about it. If we stick together they can´t do anything. Nothing could ever stop us."

„You are pathetic." Sylar replied when the other one finally stopped talking for a moment. „Now that you´ve lost you beg for my help."

„I´m just telling you what will happen as soon as this is over." Nobody insisted. „They will lock you up just like me. You´re none of them, Sylar. Don´t be their puppy. Don´t jump through their hoops."

„I´m not jumping for them. I do this because I want this. You are insane."

„But so are you. I only did all this because you did it before me."

„No."

„You were my teacher." Nobody insisted. „You made me."

„No." Sylar shouted. „You made yourself into what you are. I had nothing to do with this."

„You can´t just deny your responsibility." Nobody said and his voice was almost gentle as if he spoke to a stubborn kid.

„I don´t." Sylar replied. „I´m here, aint I? I´m taking care of you, so you won´t do any of this ever again."

„Then do it. Take care of me. But don´t do it the way they want it. Do it the way you were born for. Your way. Kill me. You know you want it. That is the way this is supposte to end and you know that. Come on. Do it. My head is right here."

Sylar looked up at this madman and was confused. More than confused. His head was spinning and his heart was racing. Not so much because of the heated argument he had allowed this man to drag him into. And it wasn´t the gas either. This man was helpless right now, totally at his mercy. All he needed to do was reaching out his hand and take what he had. A power that he surely didn´t deserve. It would be so easy.

Nobody saw the change in his face and smiled. He nodded and even waved his hands in an inviting manner.

„Impenetrable skin. Superstrength." he started to itemize. „All powers of a god. That´s what you always wanted, right? Powers. They are all yours. I´ll be forever a part of you. Just take it."

There were hard knocks on the door and the voices of Peter and Mohinder shouting for him not to.

„Don´t listen to him." Peter shouted.

„Don´t do it." Mohinder supported the urging call.

„Gabriel!"

„Sylar!"

„Don´t listen to them!" Nobody shouted to drown them out and Sylar´s attention was back on him. „They don´t understand this. This is between us."

„No, it´s not." Noah Bennet spoke out of the loudspeaker. „Sylar. Remember your promise."

„Right." Shawn´s voice cried supportive. Only that this time his voice sounded shrill and not a bit helpful or amusing anymore. All his words he said to remind Sylar that Nobody was a liar that only tried to manipulate him, went into Sylar´s ears as painfully as hot nails. He surely only wanted to help but in this moment his voice was excruciating. At last Sylar couldn´t stand it anymore and reached out a hand, crushing the loudspeaker.

He took a breath, grateful that this disturbance was over. His perception was clouded by now. The gas was filling the room and made him dizzy. It became harder to breath with every second that went by. But even with the loudspeaker gone he could still hear the hits against the door and the muffled voices of his friends outside. His friends, it echoed in his head. But were they his friends? What Nobody had said was echoing in his mind as well, stronger now. Painfully.

_They are not your friends. For them you´re nothing but a monster. A thing that needs to be exterminated._

But no. That wasn´t true. They were his friends. If he only could understand their words. It was as if the distance had gotten farther. Was that possible?

„They´ll never understand you." Nobody told him and his voice was as clear and close to him as always. „They´ll never see anything but a monster in you." he spoke into him, repeating those merciless thoughts once again. „So show them. Prove that they are right. Be the monster they want to see in you. Take my powers and be invincible." Nobody coughed and for a moment his confidence flickered. „Hurry, before the gas gets too strong." he urged.

Sylar stared up at him and he could hear the blood rush in his ears. There he was. Helpless and at his mercy and practically begging for him to raise his finger and kill him. Take his powers. It was so easy. He was right, no one would be able to stop him. Not if he had what this man had.

And it was true. He was a monster, just the way people always saw him. Who was he kidding by thinking that this could ever change. If Mohinder would be able to believe that, he wouldn´t have tried to restore only half of his memories. He´d tried to keep the monster asleep. But he´d failed. The monster had woken up again and now he was here. Back to his old self. Sylar. The monster.

„Come on!" Nobody shouted, losing his patience. „Do it. Kill me."

Sylar raised his hand and Nobody´s eyes started to glow in excitement when he saw this. He nodded at him, encouraging him to do it, to go for it. To take everything that he had in his brain. He even lowered his head for him to make it easier. He looked like a man that was waiting to be knighted by his king.

There were still the knocks on the door and the muffled sounds from outside. They were still trying to stop him. Still trying to stop the monster. He could hear their voices like he heard a white noise somewhere in the background. Nobody on the other hand was close. He was right here with him and he was eager to let him kill him. The man that had murdered in his name, the way he had murdered all these years, just to please him. And now he begged him to kill him, so he could be a part of him. Forever.

„You know what?" Sylar spoke up and had to cough when his throat was burning under the toxic gas. Nobody looked at him expectedly and Sylar smiled. „I don´t think that I want to have anything to do with what is in that head of yours." he said.

Nobody´s smile was gone in an instant and he stared at him with new rage and fury. So quickly they forget the loyalty to their king, Sylar thought and had to laugh.

When he saw that Sylar laughed about him, Nobody got furious again, if that was possible even more than he´d been before. He struggled, kicked and hit out, trying to get free at last but none of this would help. His rage only made the gas flood his lungs even faster and soon he was coughing as if he was suffering from a chain smoker´s lung.

Sylar watched him get weaker and weaker, coughing against the gas himself and just a moment before Nobody had to give in to the poisonous gas, Sylar was at the end of his strength himself. His head swirled like a spintop and then his vision blackened. He dropped to the ground and so did Nobody.

The killer without a name tried to stand up and walk to the door. But his system was overpowered by now as well. Only two steps before he actually reached the door, he broke down and didn´t move anymore.


	15. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

„All right, we need to keep them in there until the drugs get here." Bennet said when they reached the door to the primary tank room. „I called the Company, they are sending someone here in this moment."

„We can get Sylar out there now." Peter mentioned. „Give me a mask, I pull him out."

Bennet only shook his head. „He stays in there until the drugs are here."

„That was not the agreement." Peter recalled.

„The agreement was to let him help us catch Nobody." Bennet recalled right back. „He did. Now he goes back to his cell."

„Peter is right, that was not the agreement." Mohinder supported the young man. He was still holding his wounded arm. But right now the pain seemed to be forgotten. At least for the time being.

Bennet threw him a dark gaze. „I never made an agreement with Sylar." he stated matter of factly.

Mohinder held the gaze of the Company man sternly.

„No." Peter affirmed Noah´s statement and turned to Lassiter. „But you did." he said. „Chief. So what´s it gonna be?"

Everybody looked at Lassiter, who seemed caught off guard for a moment. But only for a moment.

„I´m a police detective." he stated matter of factly. „Right? And he´s a murderer. If you expect me to let him run free now that we finally have him, you must be out of your damn mind."

„No one expects you to let him run free." Mohinder argued.

„But what?" Bennet asked. „Put him on probation? Because it worked so well last time."

„It would have worked if I would have given him the chance." Mohinder cried.

„So you are really standing up for him now."

„I just say that he is ready to do his part." the geneticist replied. „You saw that when you talked to him." he addressed Lassiter and immediately turned back to Bennet, adding: „And I say that he deserves that chance."

Peter nodded at him approvingly.

„And who is gonna watch him?" Bennet demanded to know. „You?"

For a moment the geneticist was startled, caught off guard just like Lassiter before. Just like him only for a moment.

„Yes." he answered coldly when he´d overcome his surprise. „If you ask me like that."

„You would really do that?" Bennet asked with his brows raised. „How? How can you _guarantee_ … that he won´t kill again?"

„C.E.R.N." Mohinder answered without having to think about it. „Frank Wieland offered me a job at C.E.R.N." he explained. „My own lab. I´m gonna accept that offer. Let me take him with me. That´s a save environment. No specials around to tempt his hunger and he could help me to keep up my research. He´s actually the only one who _can_ help me with my research. All the samples that I need are in his body."

„You are really serious with that." Juliet found an amazed expression in her eyes.

The scientist looked at her a little surprised himself. „Yes." he stated nonetheless. „I am."

„Mohinder, this man is a murderer." Bennet emphasized. „He _killed_ your father."

„I know that." the geneticist shot back. „And I´m living with that knowledge since that day when I heard about his death. But this man in there is not my enemy anymore."

„And what is he?" Bennet challenged him. „Your friend? You can´t be serious with that."

For a moment it looked as if the Company man had won the argument. Because everybody knew that he was right, that Suresh would never call Sylar his friend. But then the geneticist opened his mouth and gave them his answer.

„He´s my assignment." he said. „Noah. If you give it to me. I´ll watch him. I keep him in line. You trusted me with this once already. Are you brave enough to trust me again?"

After that Bennet´s gaze went through three different stages. The first one was surprise over what the geneticist had just come up with. The second one was contemplation and at last he was smiling, even chuckled silently over the fact that this scientist had put him in his place like this.

„Switzerland, hm?" he asked. After another moment, he turned around to Lassiter and asked him: „What do you say, Carlton? Should we let them go?"

The head detective and current chief of police stood there and was uncertain what to say. Beside him, Shawn Spencer smirked and nudged his shoulder with his own.

„Aw, come on, Lassie." he said. „Give your heart a little nudge. Second World War is over."

„What?" Lassiter cried and turned to the fake psychic irritated. „What the hell are you talking about?"

Shawn just shrugged. „Switzerland." he said.

„In the second world war, people ran to Switzerland because it was neutral ground." Gus explained.

„Yeah, I know that." Lassiter stated with a kiss my ass face. „You don´t lecture me about that war, Guster. Right? My grandfather fought in that war."

Gus held the gaze of the angry detective without blinking. „So did mine." he replied unimpressed.

„Seriously?" Shawn asked.

„Yes, Shawn." Gus told him. „And so did yours."

Now Shawn was really confused. „Honestly? How do _you_ know?"

„Don´t you remember the stories he always told us when we were kids?" Gus cried.

„Of course I do. They were about him and his buddies running around fields, playing hide and seek."

„That´s what I´m talking about."

„But that doesn´t make any sense, dude …"

„Shawn."

„If you would say that …"

„Would you just stop that." Lassiter hissed when he couldn´t hear it anymore.

Next to him Juliet threw her head in her neck, rolling her eyes in exasperation. „All our grandfathers fought in that war." she stated matter of factly to end this conversation.

„Mine didn´t." Mohinder raised his finger all the sudden and blinked when everybody halted and looked at him. „Oh my god, I´m doing it." he realized in shock. „I start to act like you guys."

„You certainly do, dude." Shawn grinned. „You´re one of us now." He held out his fist for the scientist to bump it, but the gesture wasn´t answered.

Juliet shook her head. „Those facts we just settled, won´t help us a bit … to solve the problem we´re facing right now." she stated to get the talk back to the point.

„Right." Bennet agreed. „So what do we do?"

Peter gave him the answer. „I´m getting Sylar out of there now." he told them. „Mohinder."

The geneticist nodded and without paying any more attention to Bennet and the others, he followed him to the door. Peter took some deep breaths and then held his breath, ready to enter the room. Mohinder opened the door for him – using only one arm didn´t seem to be an issue for him – and closed it again after Peter´d passed it, to keep the gas inside. After a minute or so, he saw Peter through the mist and opened the door for him again. The young man dragged Sylar out into the hall and lay him on the ground. Mohinder closed the door again safely.

„He´s dead." Peter found, after he´d checked the pulse.

„Oh, he´ll heal." Bennet assured them all and took out his gun. Lassiter immediately did the same and caught a reproving glance from Juliet.

As if on cue, Sylar started to breath again and immediately started to cough when his lungs went back to work. He rolled around and practically roared at the ground with his coughs. Juliet lay a hand on her own throat and made a face of sympathetic pain. Gus and Shawn made similar faces and even skipped back a little as if afraid they could catch what made the killer cough so hard. Bennet only watched the whole thing with a stony expression.

At last Sylar managed it to breath normal again. With a shaky voice he asked: „What happened?"

„It worked." Peter told him. „Nobody is out. You got him."

The killer looked at him and then around for a moment as if he couldn´t believe it. „Then it is over?" he asked. When Peter smiled at him he mirrored that smile.

„Not yet as it seems." Bennet spoke up, his gun trained on Sylar. „We still haven´t decided what to do with you." he told him.

Sylar looked up at him startled first but then he understood. Bennet nodded.

„Mohinder offered a solution." he informed the killer. „Which we still have to decide."

„What solution?" Sylar wanted to know.

But before anyone could answer his question, some men came down the hallway, the second plant manager was leading their way. „Chief Lassiter." he called out. „These men say they belong to you."

„Yes." Lassiter answered and threw Bennet a glance. After that he addressed the two Company men and told them as if he´d never done anything else: „Get the man that lies in that room out of there. Make sure he is no threat and then bring him to the Company." After this he halted and looked at Bennet. The Company man smiled and nodded at him approvingly.

„We´ll take care of that, chief." one of the two agents said and after they´d put on their masks, they opened the door and entered the primary tank room to do what Lassiter had just ordered them.

Juliet turned to the plant manager. „Would you turn off the gas in there now, please?" she asked him. „Thank you."

„We already did this." the manager answered and threw an uncertain glance at their group. Sylar had stood up by now but the whole thing still had to look strange to him. „Please, excuse me." he said at last. „I need to bring the factory back online."

With that he turned around and left, obviously glad that he didn´t have to see or hear any more of this government business.

A hissing sound made them all look around. Suresh was holding his arm once again and his face was distorted with pain. Sylar had a hand on his shoulder to make sure he was okay. The scientist nodded.

„What was that solution you talked about?" Sylar asked, when he was sure it was really better and not just the doctor´s pride talking.

„I told Noah that I´ll work at C.E.R.N. from now on." the geneticist summarized. „To keep up my studies … and that I could need a test subject."

Sylar immediately understood and smiled amused. „So instead of being a guinea pig for the Company, I have the choice to be a guinea pig in Switzerland." he said.

„You don´t have to take the deal." Bennet said. „It wasn´t my idea. But you should be grateful for that choice."

Sylar looked at the Company man and his smile was gone. „I am. Noah." he said. „I was kidding." Having said this he started to smirk again. „Have you ever been to Switzerland?" he asked the Company man.

„I will get there if you make any kind of trouble." Noah promised.

Sylar lay his head askew. „I was only trying to say only an idiot would deny the chance to go there." he said. „That´s like holiday."

„That´s true." Gus agreed and got a highly irritated glance from Bennet. After another moment, the Company man turned back to face Mohinder instead.

„I want constant reports about his behavior." he demanded and got a demonstrative surprised face from the geneticist.

„I didn´t agree to work for you." he stated. „You have no right whatsoever to claim reports from me as if you were my boss."

„If you take him as your assignment then you _are_ working for me, Mohinder." Bennet insisted.

„So you are going to pay me?" was the straight reply, combined with a stony and blank face of the scientist.

For a moment the two men just stared at each other. But in the end Bennet just couldn´t help and cracked a smile.

„I would appreciate a word from you once in a while." he rephrased his request. „Just to know that everything is all right. Okay?"

Mohinder kept staring at him for another minute but then he just shrugged. „Why not." was all he said.

„Dude, that´s so awesome." Shawn exclaimed and instinctively gave Sylar both thumbs up.

Gus who instinctively had just gone along with his friend´s action, realized first what they were doing. „Shawn, what are we doing?" he asked.

By now realisation had reached Shawn´s consciousness as well. „Did we just give the killer thumbs up?" he wondered.

„I believe we did." Gus affirmed.

„Why would we do that?"

„I don´t know."

Sylar looked at them and his smile made them both raise their brows in uncertainty.

„Carlton." Juliet´s concerned voice interrupted the situation. She was standing at the door to the primary tank room, looking through the window with a concerned frown. Lassiter stepped to her side and looked inside as well.

„What is it?" Bennet wanted to know.

Instead of answering his question, Juliet opened the door to let the two Company men step out. They were still carrying the hose and infusion bag they´d brought to contain Nobody. Now they were taking off their masks and shook their heads.

„He´s dead." one of them said. „Seems the gas was too much for him."

For a moment they all just stood there, shocked over that revelation. Really none of them had expected this to end with Nobody´s death. Not after all that he´d survived so far.

„I thought you said it wouldn´t affect him that much?" Shawn asked confused. „I mean … he was one of you guys. Wasn´t he?"

„He was still only human." Peter said and then faced Noah. „We left him in there too long."

The Company man didn´t flinch at that accusation. „Maybe it´s better that way." he said. „Who knows if we would have been able to control him."

„So you chalk it up to self defence?"

„It was … self defence." Juliet chipped in, stepping between the two men. „Please." she begged for peace. „It´s over."

Bennet nodded in agreement, looking at Peter expectedly. The younger man needed a little longer but in the end he agreed too. There was no sense in keeping this up. Nobody was dead and no argument would change that. Bennet nodded at him and then turned to look at Sylar again.

„I bet now you regret it that you didn´t take his power." he said.

The killer reacted surprised at this. „No." he replied. „I didn´t take it for a reason. It was my choice."

This time it was Peter who raised his hand to make peace. „Let it be, Noah." he demanded. „The decision has been made."

„Unfortunately. But that´ll never change what I see in that … monster."

Sylar held his gaze without a change in his expression but didn´t say anything.

„What are we supposte to do, sir?" one of the two Company men asked.

„Bring the body out of here." Lassiter ordered before Noah had a chance to open his mouth. „Bring him to the morgue. Then we´ll see."

Bennet threw him a glance and added emphasizing: „The _Company´s_ morgue."

His glance was answered with a frown. „Of course." Lassiter said. „That´s what I meant."

„Dude, what is just happening here?" Shawn asked, looking from one of them to the other while the body of the dead criminal was taken care of.

„I don´t know, Shawn." Gus stated. „And I don´t care. I just wanna get out of here."

With that his friend turned around and made his words true by marching down the hall to finally get some fresh air, where he had to see no more dead bodies. Shawn hurried after him, still trying to talk to him about these recent character developments they´d just witnessed in their team. And of course he was ignored.

...

Outside of the factory, the body of the deceased criminal was loaded into the van of the Company under the watchful eyes of Lassiter and Bennet, who had both followed the body outside like two dogs following the scent of some sausage. The doors of the van got closed and the motor got started when everybody else joined them.

„We take the next flight to Europe." Mohinder decided before they were even at the gate. He was holding an ice gel pack to his arm, that Juliet had managed to organize for him.

„What, already?" Sylar cried in an almost whining tone. „Can´t we stay just for a day or two?"

Mohinder placed himself in front of the killer to make him look at him instead of Shawn and Juliet.

„You really wanna tempt fate?" he asked him and threw a meaningful glance over at Bennet.

The Company man was looking right back at them. Sylar only smiled at him and gave him a mocking salut with his finger. Bennet didn´t give him the satisfaction of a reaction but that only made the killer smile even more.

Mohinder grabbed his arm and turned him around, away from Bennet. „Obviously you do." he grumbled and made the killer go on.

„Don´t worry, Mohinder." Sylar said in a lighthearted tone. „Even if he would try to catch us. Our car is faster than his."

The scientist frowned confused. „No, it isn´t." he found.

Sylar just shrugged. „It could be. If you let me drive." He held up the keys. „He´ll never catch us."

Mohinder was about to protest when Peter had already snapped the keys out of Sylar´s hand and passed the two of them.

„I drive." he stated matter of factly. „I take the plane back to New York and you two …" and with that he looked at Sylar. „should see that you get to Switzerland. For some people the war will never be over."

With that he went to the car and got behind the wheel. When Sylar only grinned, Mohinder pushed him to move on.

„Dude." Shawn whispered to Gus, watching the whole thing from a save distance. „Is it just me or is this the beginning of a wonderful friendship?"

Gus only looked at him as if he were crazy. „It´s probably just you." he said.

„Agree to disagree." was all Shawn would say to that. In the corner of his eye, he noticed a movement and turned his head. It was Bennet and he was approaching Sylar and Mohinder. Shawn immediately started to jump.

„Dude." he cried over to Sylar and made the two men swirl around. „Bennet´s coming." he cried, still jumping and waving. „He´s coming. Run. Go. Run. Run."

Gus grabbed his arm and forced him down to make him stop. But his excitement had already caught up. Sylar smiled.

„Get in the car." he urged Mohinder and immediately leaned down to Peter, holding out his open hand. „Give me the keys." he cried still grinning.

Peter only gave him a face. „Don´t be ridiculous." he said.

But then he heard Bennet address Mohinder and hurried to get out of the car. Sylar held out his hand as if to calm down Bennet and stop him from attacking. Mohinder took his arm and urged it down.

„Stop that." he hissed. „What´s wrong with you?"

„What is it, Noah?" Peter wanted to know.

„I´d like to have a few words with Mohinder if you don´t mind." Bennet said. „In private."

Peter nodded. He gave Sylar a signal to stop fooling around and enter the car.

„I´m right there." Mohinder assured him and this time Sylar complied. Not after one last checking glance at the Company men though.

„What is it?" the scientist asked Bennet as soon as the doors were closed.

„Just a short advice." Bennet said confidentially. „From someone who took an assignment once too. Don´t get attached."

„What?"

„No matter what he did or what he might have told you." Noah started to lecture him. „He´s still Sylar and Sylar will always be a killer. He murdered your father, he murdered your cousin and his wife. Don´t forget about that."

„I won´t." Mohinder assured him, a little startled that Bennet actually thought it was necessary to remind him on those facts.

Bennet nodded. „Don´t believe that he is your friend just because he appears to care once in a while." he said. „He is and will always be a monster. And one day he´ll try to kill you to get your powers. You should be prepared for that day, Mohinder."

The geneticist raised both brows. „Don´t worry." he said. „I will." When Bennet didn´t give another response he asked: „That all?"

Bennet nodded, his gaze intense and warning. Mohinder turned around without another word and got in the car.

„What did he want?" Peter asked him while starting the motor.

Mohinder looked out of the window into Noah Bennet´s eyes. His gaze hadn´t changed a bit.

„Nothing." he said. „Let´s go."

Peter looked at the geneticist for a moment. But when he didn´t get any more from him, he just started the car and drove off. They had a plane to catch after all.

**End of Volume Four**

...

**Volume Five **

– „**Harris´ Heroes" –**

While the car with Sylar, Mohinder and Peter in it, drove away from the plant, heading for the airport, another vehicle drove in the exact opposite direction. The driver of the van that harbored Nobody´s dead body radioed in to the Company in Durham Street to report that they would arrive in about twenty minutes. After that the van drove on for exactly seven more minutes.

It reached the highway, which was almost empty at this time of the day, and crossed the bridge. When the street followed a long bow, a motorcycle came from the other direction. Before it actually passed them, the driver steered sharp to the left and right in front of the van.

The driver gripped his wheel and stomped his foot down on the brake. The motorcycle raced past the hood of the van, missing the bumper about only a few inches and then just drove on, vanishing in the distance. The wheels of the van blocked and the big vehicle lost the grip to the road. Within only ten seconds the world lost its contours for the driver and his colleague.

Metal shrieked and sparks began to fly when the bodywork scratched over the pavement. Another moment later the van, that was still moving extremely fast, despite the fact that it was lying on its side, collided with the guarding rail and crashed right through it. Once again, the world started to spin when it rolled and jumped down the hillside until it finally came to a stop at the concrete pier of the bridge it had just crossed.

Gasoline was spilling out of the ripped tank but neither the driver nor his colleague were paying attention to that. They were both dead. As dead as the body they´d been transporting. In the distance the roaring motor of a motorcycle approached the place. It circled the van one time and then stopped. Shortly after that the biker was accompanied by another van that drove up to the shattered one.

Two men got out. One of them opened the back of their own vehicle while the second one went over to the crashed car to open that one. Experienced movements and the trained work of a long time team accomplished the task they´d come for in less than a minute.

After the van had left the place, the biker took a match out of his pocket and lit it on the heel of his boot. For a moment he just stood there, the little flame dancing before him, reflected in the shield of his helmet. Then he just threw the match into the gasoline. The van went off in flames almost instantly.

...

A few dozen miles away from that burning van, a man stood at the window of his office. He was only in his mid-forties but his hair was as white as snow. The prematurely grey hair did not take any of the strength and determination out of the man´s face though. He looked out of the window regarding the peaceful sight of the woods he could see from there, while he listened to the report of his man on the phone. The mission had been a complete success. But that was something he hadn´t expected any different.

„Good work." he praised nonetheless. „Bring him over. He´ll be of great value for us."

That instruction given he hung up without waiting for a response. After that the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock and the never ending course of his own thoughts. Things were set in motion. And as soon as something was in motion, there were very few things that could ever stop them again. Very soon the time would be up. And then nothing would be left that could ever stop it again. Fate couldn´t be stopped. Never. The time he´d been waiting for for so long now, would be there soon.

_To be continued …_

* * *

**Here you go. The last chapter. For now. You may stay a little longer to read the Author´s Note if you like. Or you just skip that and take a break. Anyway you chose I hope to see you back again for the next story, as soon as it comes out.**

**And thank you all for reading.**


	16. Author's Note

**Author´s Note**

Well, well. Here we are again, celebrating the end of this latest story in the Psych vs. Sylar series with this by now old tradition. The one that I like to call my final statement. If you, dear reader, happen to be here to read this before actually reading the story, I once again have to do my duty as a writer and tell you politely to BACK OFF! Do yourself a favour and don´t spoil the story.

All right, now that I have done my duty, knowing that I will probably be ignored, I can go on.

Sylar´s Legacy. How did it start? Well, with Sylar´s apparent death in the last story of course. I know I was deceiving with that but I wanted the readers to believe, just like the characters believed it, that Sylar had actually died, even if it was only for a while. I´m not sure how many of you really did believe it though and if for how long. I hope I could at least confuse you guys a little to a point where you were not quiet sure anymore if he would come back or not.

But in the end, he of course came back. I don´t think that I would have been able to kill that guy off even if I would have really wanted it. The question many of you might have wondered about is probably how he survived. And I know you expect me to answer that burning question. But frankly, I have no idea. I´m the writer of the story, nothing more. I see what you guys see and that is all. I have no idea how he survived or why he suffered from that trauma after he came back out.

Frank´s theory that Sylar dropped out of that black hole again in Switzerland because he was so close to the LHC might be true, even though I like Mohinder´s theory much better. That Sylar unconsciously controlled the shadow and travelled to where they were because he knew they would help him. But ultimately I have no idea which is true. All I know is that he survived and that he suffered from amnesia for a while.

How it happened that he was cured from that amnesia is something I might be able to explain. If it is not quiet clear, Sylar inherited Frank´s power and in that state of not knowing, he had no control over it. When it met up with Frank, who was the original source of that power it overcharged or something like that. The result was a black hole that opened up above them and a regained memory for Sylar.

So, and this is as far as I dare to go with my explanation about what happened to him. Everything else would be pure speculation.

Now let´s move on to the second killer in this story. Nobody. How did he come to life? Frankly? I was thinking back and forth if I should admit that but in the end I just thought, what the hell. I think you guys have a right to know that. So here we go: Once again I was inspired by a trailer I saw on Youtube but before I tell you the name I want to say one thing. The guy in the trailer is not the guy I wrote for this story. It´s a mashup trailer and it was more the feeling of it that inspired me, not the story it tries to tell.

So please don´t make the mistake to believe I wrote the character of Nobody with that character in mind that is shown in the trailer. Because he isn´t. Neither is the story of that trailer the story I wrote. But when you see the trailer you will understand what hooked me so to it. And you will find that I took a few of the pictures that are shown in it and worked it into the story, just for the fun of it. The explosions on the market for example or the exploding car, as well as the tank that made a somersault in the street. Those were just images that I liked and that I wanted to work into the story and I think I kinda managed that, without copying the trailer. I still had my own story to write after all.

So well, I guess I still owe you the name of the trailer so here we go. It´s called Joker vs Sylar and it is as I said a fanmade mashup between Heroes and The Dark Knight. Whoever made it was really talented and if you like you may go to youtube and have a look at it. It´s really good. But once again, don´t forget that this story is not totally based only on that trailer.

What I wanted with this story was this: first I wanted to bring in a killer that worshipped Sylar and tried to find him after he was already dead (assumed). I also needed him to have an ability because otherwise it would have been pretty far-fetched that this guy was so well known to the FBI and still running free. So I gave him the ability of impenetrable skin (bulletproof if you like) and superstrength.

If you recall at the beginning of the story, Mary mentioned that sometimes he was called Superman by some. Because except for the flying those are practically the most well known powers of Superman. But in the end I went for the name Nobody, just because, and yeah I admit that, I was too lazy to think of a proper name for that guy. And I thought why shouldn´t he be someone that has no real identity? The way he lives his life in this world, as someone that doesn´t really belong to this society, he wouldn´t need a name for himself. So he became the literal Nobody. Someone who grew up on the streets and learned nothing in his life but anger, hate and betrayal. I also think that he has a pathological impulse control disorder, what is why he ended up being the killer that he is. One that kills his victims by beating them to death.

His development in this story was supposte to be like this. He should start off worshipping Sylar for what he was, when he was still an active serial killer. While trying to find him he would find out that his idol is supposedly dead and decide to carry on his legacy, therefor the title of the story. But as soon as the real, still very alive Sylar would show up and he would learn that he is not on his side, Nobody would turn against him, doing once again the only thing he ever learned: killing and hating everyone that is not on his side. But of course he wouldn´t be able to kill Sylar that easily and so their little standoff could not be the end of the story. But we´ll come back to that later. Let´s have a look at some other things first.

The idea to let Yang come into the story happened on the spur of the moment. She literally came from out of nowhere and somehow found her way to Nobody. Personally I liked the idea of him and her bonding the way they did. Something about her interested him and he allowed her to be around him for a while. Maybe the two of them could have been like a Bonny and Clyde couple if things had turned out differently. But as we all know life has its own rules. Yang tried to do the right thing and Nobody punished her for that.

That scene between her and him just before he killed her was so much fun to write. It was my attempt on trying out a psychological thriller. I hope it managed to give some of you a few goosebumps while reading it. I sure enjoyed it. Oh, and before I forget it. Anyone noticed the hidden waffles? First time I managed it to work in the favourite food of Heroes. The cockroach was there too if you looked closely.

That I brought Peter into the story was partly a subconsciously decision and partly pure necessity. Subconscious because Peter was seen in the trailer I already mentioned and he somehow snuck into my head while writing because of that. Necessity because that is exactly what he would have done if he´d heard news like that about Sylar. I think he would try to help if things like that would happen and so he took the first plane to Santa Barbara and made his way into the story. Once again.

By the way, I really liked the scene where he got to meet Mary for the first time. Again that was total character work, nothing that was planned from my side. But I like the fact that Mary irritated Peter that much, especially with this limp handshake of his. It´s really true what Shawn said: He has that effect on everyone.

One other thing that I liked about the course of this story was the fact that Lassiter got a chance to take over the chief´s seat for a while. It was a nice tryout and it was surely not as devastating as Tim Omundson always proclaimed in case Lassiter should ever get the chance to rule the city. Or if you like that better, how Shawn saw it in his dream the other Christmas. Anyway, it didn´t happen. Maybe just because Lassie didn´t have much time to change the whole constitution but still … I think he did a pretty adequate job as the chief of police.

Still I think it´s a good thing that chief Vick will take over again, as soon as she´s out of hospital. What will be in a few weeks, I guess. Depends on what the doctors say. Same thing goes for Henry. They´ll both be fine. Nobody didn´t get them.

What I didn´t quiet managed to accomplish in this story was to let Sylar and Mohinder go on some sort of a secret mission the way I wanted it. Maybe they were on a secret mission for a short time but I was not absolutely happy with the way it turned out. It didn´t quiet have the James Bond feeling to it that I imagined. But whatever. It was good enough anyway, at least I think so.

What I liked was the fact that they were watching from the distance for a while instead of walking in right away and that this turned out to create some trouble with the police for them. I especially liked the fact that Mohinder was so absolutely on Sylar´s side when Lassiter tried to arrest them. He really stood up for the man who´d killed half of his family, didn´t he? Sorry, I just had to bring that up again. Because it´s true. Because I believe he finally managed it to get over that old issue. The way he answered the phone when Lassiter demanded from him to put it on speaker, was proof of it. He did what Lassiter wanted from him, but he didn´t help him to deceive Sylar.

It really was an interesting change these two went through over the course of this story. From Mohinder´s feelings of guilt, over his tries to deal with that by messing with Sylar´s memory to their journey back to Santa Barbara. To analyse everything each of them did would need much more time and space than I intended to use for this Author´s Note so I will cut it short and stop right here.

About the last part where Nobody decided to poison the city, that was inspired by an episode of Twenty-four. The terrorists tried practically the same as Nobody, only there they used highly complicated computer tricks to do so. My Nobody was much more practical in his methods. He just went in there and smashed everything he could find.

I used some of the terms that were used in that episode of Twenty-four to explain the technology of that factory but that was really all that I dared to copy. Everything else was independent and my own again. I don´t steal stuff from other stories or shows, I simply borrow some inspirations from time to time. I would have liked to let Nobody aim for an atomic reactor but I googled that and there was simply no reactor in reachable distance. So I needed something else he could attack and that said episode of Twenty-four gave me the clue. Pesticides that could poison the city if released. Good enough for my finale. At least for me.

I also needed a final standoff between Sylar and Nobody and letting Sylar hold Nobody until he passed out was pretty convenient in my mind. On a sidenote, I didn´t plan on killing Nobody at the end. I was pretty much indecisive about what should happen to him and I remained indecisive until they found out that he hadn´t survived. So for all of you who were not okay with this ending, please understand that this was not my decision. It just happened. I for myself am not a fan of stories where the bad guy has to die in the end, as if that would be the only way of justice. I really don´t like such stories at all. They are way too classic in our believes of justice. But for Nobody there was obviously no other way. Just as Noah said: Maybe it´s better that way.

The final solution to what to do about Sylar was pretty much the same we had in the second story already, only that this time it was Mohinder´s own suggestion to watch over Sylar. To take him as his assignment as he put it. So as you saw the two of them will head back to Switzerland to finally settle down and find some rest. Or maybe not?

Again there is a strange force working on something that can only mean bad things for our heroes. Whoever it is that stole the dead body of Nobody, I have the bad feeling that they are up to something, wouldn´t you agree with me? But that is something we have to wait for until next time.

See you.

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**And once again I end with saying my sincerest thanks for staying with me that long. I don´t know what I would do without you people.**

**You may leave a last review of course.**

**And thanks so much for reading these stories. That´s why I write them.**


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